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146 I cannot decidedly say whether they were the common or the sandmartin, as I had only a minute or two to observe them in, and they were flying high and the sky was bright. I could only see their figure, and not colour at all. I know they were not swallows, and had I seen them late in the season, should have called them common martins at once, as I do not remember ever to have seen a sand-martin since I have been here. They were not travelling, but sporting about backwards and forwards, and I believe them to have been the common martin. I never saw one of the tribe so early before by nearly three weeks, although T once had the luck, some twenty years ago, to kill a house martin, whilst snipe-shooting in the osier-beds at Wandsworth, on the 13th of November. Are you aware that there are no wrynecks in these parts? I have been here four springs, and never yet heard one, I must say to my sorrow, for to my ears there is something very pleasant and spring-like in their note, ugly as it really is.—W. Wilcox; Bideford, Devon, March 18, 1843.

Note on the Sand-martin. Many a field-naturalist, reading the volume of nature, far removed from the society and converse of kindred spirits, will hail the appearance of 'The Zoologist' with feelings of the liveliest satisfaction: such, at least, are my own emotions, and in gratitude for the services it has rendered to naturalists and to the public at large, I beg to offer a few contributions to its pages. The first shall be a note on the sand-martin or bank swallow. Mr. White, of Selborne, mentions the solitary habits of this swallow, and in this his accuracy has been impugned, by at least two of his commentators. I have no reverence for names, no regard for writings that do not bear the impress of originality—that will not stand the test of truth. In the latter quality there can be no medium. What is 'The Natural History of Selborne' but the faithful record of a good man's life,—of a gifted, well-regulated mind, untainted by ambition, which never wished to ramble far from his native village? He never sought to rise to general laws; he wrote to support no system; he is, what he ever wished to be, the faithful faunist of his own province. His work will descend to future generations. Some, by overlooking the spirit—the letter of his work, have done him a passing injury, and thereby exposed themselves to ridicule. Did they ever tread the classic shades of Selborne? Did they question grey -haired men, who, perhaps searched the south-east end of the Hanger, on the 11th of April, 1781, for torpid swallows, how and where the sand-martin nestled in