Whoever has an opportunity to observe reptiles in confinement for an extended period of time can easily draw conclusions as to their mode of living in freedom. A captive Gila Monster is fed on hens’ eggs; in summer one each week, in winter one every two or three weeks. It refuses every other kind of food, however temptingly it may be offered, such as mice, frogs, angleworms, mealworms and the like. It is more than probable that in their wild state they live on a similar diet, consisting then of eggs of other lizards, of turtles and of birds. The animal has the reputation of being destructive to the Arizona quail. Several writers of Natural History add to this a diet of insects, but the embarrassed locomotion of the Heloderma seems to exclude flying and fast-running prey. Nearly all reptiles which feed on eggs climb, as do some snakes, and as does the slow and clumsy Gila Monster. They are not able to ascend high and straight trees, which, however, are not found in these regions, but they are able to climb bushes and low trees, having somewhat leaning trunks and rough bark. And it is wonderful to see how cleverly it disposes of the sharp claws and the muscular, half-prehensile tail, both in dragging itself up and in retarding an often too rapid descent. The inquiry may be made: How is it possible that a Heloderma lives on eggs alone when it can find them only during the relatively short time of five or six months? First, it may be remembered that this period corresponds nearly to the active life of the animal before and after estivation. The second and more important reason is its remarkable frugality. The digestive organs are so constructed that they adapt themselves to a fast of many months without injury to the animal. In captivity the Gila Monster begins to slough about January and continues this process during several months. The epidermis comes off not like a snake’s, in a whole piece, but in several, or more frequently in many, fragments. There is still a wide field open for accurate observation and definite knowledge that we relinquish to the professional naturalist and to those fortunate ones who can study the animal in freedom. Amelia Walson. [Editor’s Note: The Gila Monster of the illustration is still living and has for some years been the interesting pet of one whose love of nature in all forms has found beauty in the reptile usually shunned alike by the savage and by civilized man.] BIRD NOTES. I. Bit of sunshine taken wings, Or a spray of golden-rod? On thistle top he sways and swings, Or flung high to the sun, he sings— Perdita—Perdita—Perdita— ’Dita,—Sweet, Sweet—. II. Good morning trolled, then all the day, From thicket hidden bramble bush, This recluse croons his roundelay. But startle him,—a flash of gray, And, Hush—Hush—Hush—Hush— Go ’way,—Go ’way—. III.