During the first few hours of this month our lantern was the centre of a twittering throng of feathered migrants. Wheatears, rockpipits, starlings, wrens, and robins fluttered erratically through the rays or clamoured in their innocence against the glass, apparently desiring a closer acquaintance with the source of light. Puffs of feathers floated away on the easterly breeze as some unfortunate, less discreet than his fellows, crashed against the invisible barrier. The coming dawn, however, reveals to the survivors the absurdity of their position, and ere the light is extinguished they have resumed their journey shorewards. Frequent fogs occurred in the earlier part of the month, and during the prevalence of a long spell a long-eared owl was captured on the balcony and held prisoner for a week, during which time various samples of our commissariat were offered for his acceptance without avail. A luckless sparrow, the only one by the way I have seen here, was then captured and placed at his disposal. This proved more in his line of business, for on the morning after the rump and tail feathers alone were left. Next day the indigestible portions, feathers, etc., were cast up in the form of a compact ball. Later a thrush was similarly offered, but after a couple of days in each other’s company remained untouched. It was amusing to see the spirited attitude assumed by the thrush when in the presence of his natural foe. Screaming aggressively at the slightest movement of the owl, he would lunge furiously in his direction, his bill all the while snapping audibly. The fog having cleared somewhat, both were then set at liberty.