A nightingale has been heard singing in Kensington Gardens (_vide
Times_, April 19). A salmon has been seen swimming close to London
Bridge. A trout has been observed (reposing on a marble slab) near to
Charing Cross. Sticklebacks have been captured in the waters of the
Serpentine. Plovers eggs have been discovered in the middle of Covent
Garden: I myself have found there as many as two dozen in a single walk.
There is a rookery in St. Giles's, well known to the police. I have seen
a pigeon shot not far from Shepherd's Bush, and I have heard one has
been plucked by a member of the hawk tribe at another West-End haunt.
Blackbeetles are common in the back kitchens of Belgravia, and
bluebottles abound among the butchers of Whitechapel during the warm
months. There is another kind of fly, which is said to be indigenous to
the stables of the jobmasters, and which also may be seen by observant
Cockney naturalists, but less seldom in Whitechapel than near the
Regent's Park. Sparrow-clubs have not been established yet in London,
but pea-shooters are common in many of its streets. I am told that early
risers may hear a male canary singing in the neighbourhood of Islington
at four o'clock, A.M., and may also hear a cock crow any morning, except
Sunday, between five and six o'clock. The thrush has been observed among
sundry of the children, under medical inspection, in the nurseries and
infant hospitals of town. Little ducks are plentiful in the _salons_ of
Tyburnia, and in Bayswater and Brompton there are numbers of great
geese. Welsh rabbits may be seen close to Covent Garden, and wild
turkeys have been noticed even in the Strand, hanging by the beak. In
the purlieus of St. Stephen's, where are the sacred haunts of the
collective wisdom of the kingdom, I have heard the hootings of many an
old owl. From information which I have received from members of the
metropolitan police, I may assert that larks are common in the
Haymarket, and that on the shores of the silver Thames at Wapping there
is frequently observable a goodly flock of mudlarks. From similar
information, I may add that there are careful observers in the streets
who rarely pass a day without their setting their eyes upon a robbin'.
Who shall say that in the very midst of the metropolis there is not
abundant evidence of a truly rural, and a tooral-looral life?
* * * * *
NIGHT-BIRDS THAT MAKE WEST-END NIGHT HIDEOUS.--The 'owls of 'Arry after
his larks.
* * * * *
CHARADE FOR COSTERMONGERS.--My first is unfathomable, my second
odoriferous, and my whole is a people of Africa.--_Abyss-inians._
* * * * *
CONSOLATION FOR COCKNEYS.--It is all very well to talk of the fine
boulevards of Paris; but in the French metropolis, where the rent is so
high, and the living so dear, there is not one street to be named with
Cheapside.
* * * * *
[Illustration: _'Arry (encountering a shut gate for the first time)._
"Wonder which end the thing opens? Ah, 'ere y'are! 'Ere's the 'ooks an'
eyes!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: THE BEAN HARVEST
_Cockney Tourist._ "Tut-t-t! Good gracious! What ever can 'ave made the
corn turn so black?"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: THE EASTER VACATION.
_Owner._ "Well, the poor old moke ain't been quite 'isself lately, so we
thought a day in the country 'ud do im good!"]
* * * * *