The mocking bird now sounds that whistle at all times of the day, and what is even more perplexing, he is learning to imitate the scream and buzzle of the shell through the air.

He may learn the explosion next.

I mention this peculiar fact for the benefit of future ornithologists, who might otherwise be puzzled at his form of song.
Another interesting event in natural history occurred a short time ago up the Port road.

A Bulwan shell, missing the top of Convent Hill, lobbed over and burst at random with its usual din and circumstance.
People rushed up to see what damage it had done, but they only found two little dead birds--one with a tiny hole in her breast, the other with an eye knocked out.

Ninety-six pounds of iron, brass, and melinite, hurled four miles through the air, at unknown cost, just to deal a true-lovers' death to two sparrows, five of which are sold for one farthing! _Sunday, January 21, 1900._ After varying my trek-ox rations by catching a kind of barbel with a worm in the yellow Klip, I went again to Observation Hill, and with the greater interest because every one was saying two of the Boer camps were in flames.