The neck in these birds is very long; but appears short, because it forms a sigmoid curve downward, which is concealed by the feathers of the breast: the trachea is therefore long, and its appearance is singular, because the dilatation from which the bronchi divide, is near the middle of the whole length, the bronchi being full half an inch in length; they run down side by side, however, and are in fact soldered together for about half of their length: though the tubes are still distinct, as appears by a transverse section. Our two other species I have proved to have the same conformation. When I left England, I had laid myself out for the attempt to bring these radiant creatures alive to this country: and after a little acquaintance with the Jamaican species, Polytmus seemed, from its beauty, its abundance, its size, its docility, and its mountain habitat, to be the species at once most likely to succeed, and most worthy of the effort. My expectations were disappointed: yet as the efforts themselves made me more familiar with their habits, the reader, I trust, will pardon some prolixity of detail in the narration of these attempts. Very many were caught by myself and my lads: the narrow path on Bluefields peak already mentioned, was the locality to which we resorted on these expeditions. A common gauze butterfly-net, on a ring of a foot in diameter and a staff of three or four feet, we found the most effective means of capture. The elaborate traps recommended by some authors, I fear would suit the natural history of the closet, better than that of the woods. We often found the curiosity of these little birds stronger than their fear; on holding up the net near one, he frequently would not fly away, but come and hover over the mouth, stretching out his neck to peep in, so that we could capture them with little difficulty. Often too, one when struck at unsuccessfully, would return immediately, and suspend itself in the air just above our heads, or peep into our faces, with unconquerable familiarity. Yet it was difficult to bring these sweet birds, so easily captured, home; they were usually dead or dying when we arrived at the house, though not wounded or struck. And those which did arrive in apparent health, usually died the next day. At my first attempt in the spring of 1845, I transferred such as I succeeded in bringing alive, to cages immediately on their arrival at the house, and though they did not beat themselves, they soon sunk under the confinement. Suddenly they would fall to the floor of the cage, and lie motionless with closed eyes; if taken into the hand, they would perhaps seem to revive for a few moments; then throw back the pretty head, or toss it to and fro as if in great suffering, expand the wings, open the eyes, slightly puff up the feathers of the breast, and die: usually without any convulsive struggle. This was the fate of my first attempts.