"I have been often much delighted with watching the manner in which some of the old bucks in Bushy Park contrive to get the berries from the fine thorn-trees there. They will raise themselves on their hind legs, give a spring, entangle their horns in the lower branches of the tree, give them one or two shakes, which make some of the berries full, and they will then quietly pick them up. "A strong proof of intellect was given in the case of Colonel O'Kelly's parrot. When the colonel and his parrot were at Brighton, the bird was asked to sing; he answered 'I can't,' Another time he left off in the middle of a tune, and said, 'I have forgot.' Colonel O'Kelly continued the tune for a few notes; the parrot took it up where the Colonel had left off. The parrot took up the bottom of a lady's petticoat, and said 'What a pretty foot!' The parrot seeing the family at breakfast said, 'Won't you give some breakfast to Poll?' The company teazed and mopped him a good deal; he said 'I don't like it.'--(From a Memorandum found amongst the late Earl of Guildford's Papers.)" Eels. Several pages are devoted to the economy of these curious creatures, and as many points of their history are warmly contested, Mr. Jesse's experience is valuable. "That they do wander[6] from one place to another is evident, as I am assured that they have been found in ponds in Richmond Park, which had been previously cleaned out and mudded, and into which no water could run except from the springs which supplied it.[7] An annual migration of young eels takes place in the River Thames in the month of May, and they have generally made their appearance at Kingston, in their way upwards, about the second week in that month, and accident has so determined it, that, for several years together it was remarked that the 10th of May was the day of what the fishermen call eel-fair; but they have been more irregular in their proceedings since the interruption of the lock at Teddington. These young eels are about two inches in length, and they make their approach in one regular and undeviating column of about five inches in breadth, and as thick together as it is possible for them to be. As the procession generally lasts two or three days, and as they appear to move at the rate of nearly two miles and a half an hour, some idea may be formed of their enormous number. [6] From the following lines of Oppian, the rambling spirit of eels seems to have been known to the ancients-- The wandering eel, Oft to the neighbouring beach will silent steal"