The well-known Birds of Prey, so keen of eye, so rapid of flight, so fearless in courage, and so matchless in fight, have spread over almost the whole known world. The Eagles of one land are, therefore, much like the Eagles of another. The Harriers of England are practically identical with the Harriers of Australia and New Zealand, and, in fact, of almost any other land. The Falcon, so famous in mediæval times, is practically identical with the Falcon of Australia and Tasmania. The Australian Fish Hawk is the universal Fish Hawk or Osprey, for there is probably but one Osprey, having an almost world-wide range. The naming of these birds, though, has been a stumbling-block to us. To Australians they are all Hawks--even our gigantic and glorious Eagle has been reduced to the ignominious level of an "Eaglehawk," though our male Eagle is the largest male Eagle known, outrivalling, as it does, both the Bald Eagle of America and the Golden Eagle of Europe. A source of confusion, too, has arisen from the introduction of so many of our popular names from America, Thus, the Gum-tree (Eucalypt) is not a Gum, the 'Possum is not the carnivorous Opossum of America, the Goanna is not the equivalent of the vegetarian American Iguana; the "Wild Cat" is not a Cat, nor is the "Native Bear" a Bear, nor even remotely related to one, nor is the Kestrel a Sparrowhawk. It is an American error in popular naming, which has given us the Kestrel as the equivalent of the American Sparrowhawk, while the Sparrowhawk of the ornithologist is the equivalent of the Sparrowhawk of Britain. In one respect, we are unfortunate in this new land. No mass of association and tradition has yet had time to crystallize about our native animals and plants. Our poets have not been able to sing of our birds for want of names and knowledge. Little has been done beyond the giving and frequent altering of scientific names, and the misapplication of names of animals and plants living in other lands to often totally different animals and plants here, so that confusion has reigned supreme. However, in bird matters, at least, we are on a better footing, for the bird-lovers have provided a common, and in most cases an appropriate, name for each bird. The American Bobolink and Chickadee are famous birds, chiefly on account of an appropriate name; so is the British Cuckoo, while its even more noisy, more common, and practically identical Australian cousin is still unknown, or rather was until recently. The introduction of Bird Day has already produced gratifying results. We need good descriptive names for our varied and beautiful birds--more children's and poets' names, and less of the deadly formal "Yellow-vented Parrakeet," "Blue-bellied Lorikeet," and "Warty-faced Honeyeater" for some of the most glorious of the world's birds.