swallow. Perhaps you may consider the incident worth record- ing.
I first noticed the bird hovering over our boat at close quarters in that wonderfully graceful flight which is so characteristic of the tern. Presently it dropped on my flies, which were lying on the water, and foreseeing the probable result of this I tried to drive it away with the point of my rod, nearly touching it several times in the effort. In no way daunted by this, it circled round and snatched at my friend's cast at the other end of the boat, whose flies were in the air. The gut became entangled in one of the bird's wings, with a hook lightly embedded in the feathers, when it fell to the water and was taken into the boat. It was an adult, in perfect plumage, but light in weight, and when released proceeded forthwith, quite leisurely, to fish along the shore of the Lough, apparently in no way disconcerted by its capture. I remarked to my friend that such uncanny tameness usually resulted from constitutional weakness, and this view was afterwards confirmed by our noticing the bird resting for a long time on a sheltered rock, and allowing us to approach within a few feet. The colony from which it had apparently separated, con- sisting of about a dozen pairs, nested on a small island in another part of the Lough, and left on or about the same day, with their families, for the sea. One has often heard of swifts and swallows seizing the artificial fly when floating in the air in the act of casting, but I think such a proceeding is unusual in the case of a tern, and the fearlessness and persistence of this bird were very remarkable.—I am, Sir, &c., GEO. E. Low.
14 Royal Terrace East, Kingstown, Co. Dublin.