48
NOTES—ORIGINAL AND SELECTED.
off, give them a fresh supply, placing in the tub a large lump of salt, and leave
them for 24 hours. The oysters will then disgorge any unpleasant fluid they may
have imbibed. They have practically had an emetic! Again pour away the fluid
and place the shells in fresh water, with a small quantity of salt and a handful of
oatmeal, and now the fattening-up process has begun; leave as before for one day.
Throw away the water when this is completed, again immerse in pure,
cold water, and the oysters, in a perfectly hygienic condition, are ready for
consumption."
[Speaking as one who has never swallowed a living mollusc,
I should be disposed to add, in the words of a celebrated wit,
"and then throw them out of the window!"—W.C.]
Bird Snaring.—In the Illustrated London News, of Jan. 10,
1903, are two pages illustrating "The violation of the Wild
Birds Protection Act: Snarers at work." One picture exhibits
"Snaring and Poaching in Epping Forest during close time.
Reassuring the police." The artist is Mr. P. Freuzeny. Below
the bird-snaring picture are the remarks :—
" Few wild birds long survive captivity ; but neither that fact, nor the fact that
certain birds accustomed to feed on the smallest insects cannot possibly obtain the
food essential to them, prevents their capture and sale to young or ignorant
buyers. In a recent London County Court case, the defendant stated that he
generally bought a hundred dozen linnets, Skylarks, and other British song-birds a
week. For linnets he paid two pounds for ten dozen."
The Effects of Fogs.—In the Spectator of December 6th
there is an interesting article on "Fog," beginning with the
remark:—"London clay and the Essex marshes are two factors
which help to keep the soil and air of East London cold, and so
to condense the vapour in the air till it turns to fog." After
giving some personal experiences of fogs in London and elsewhere,
the writer mentions the bewildering effects of fog on animals,
remarking that "no bird sings or utters a call in such weather,
perhaps because it fears to betray its whereabouts to an enemy."
He gives the case of a blind man, who was in the habit of coming
up every day from a little town two miles off, carrying notes and
parcels, who became lost in a fog, and was seen wandering about
in a field next to the road, feeling his way with a stick. He had
scarcely ever lost his way before. Asked why he had gone astray
(as fog might be supposed to make no difference to a blind
man), he said that "in a fog the ground sounded quite
different."