Vulgar Error.—­In Mr. Crabb’s Dictionary of General Knowledge, article, Pelican, we find it stated that the bird “has a peculiar tenderness for its young, and has been supposed to draw blood from its breast for their support.”  We thought this error had long since been expunged from natural history, and lament to find it credulously quoted in a book of the year 1830.

Eyes.—­Large animals have small eye-balls in proportion to their size:  this is very remarkably the case with the whales, as might be seen in the skeleton of the gigantic whale lately exhibited in London.  Those animals which are much under ground have the globe of the eye also very small, as the mole and shrew:  in the former of these instances its existence was long altogether denied, and it is not, in fact, larger than a pin’s head.

Teeth.—­The numerous teeth of crocodiles have this peculiarity of structure, that in order to facilitate their change, there are always two, (or sometimes three,) of which one is contained within the other.

Bills of Birds.—­Of all bills the most extraordinary is that of the cross-bill, in which the two mandibles cross each other at a considerable angle, for this formation seems to be directly opposed to the natural purposes of a bill.  The bird, however, contrives to pick out the seeds from the cones of the fir, and it is limited to that species of nourishment.

Barbel.—­Captain Heaviside, of Egham Hythe, while fishing for Roach with No. 10 hook, in the deeps at Staines Bridge, a few days ago, hooked and landed a barbel; after playing him for one hour and three quarters, during which time he could not get a sight of him.  The weight of this fine fish was exactly 11 lbs. 2 ozs.; he measured 2 feet 10 inches in length, and 1 foot 4 inches in girth.

C.H.

Impromptu on seeing the Monuments in St. Paul’s Cathedral covered with scrawled names.

  Oh! for a curse upon his head
  Who dares insult the noble dead,
  And basely scrawl his worthless name
  Upon the records of their fame! 
  Nelson, arise! thy country gave
  A heartfelt tear, a hallow’d grave: 
  Her eyes are dry, her recreant sons
  Dare to profane thy mould’ring bones! 
  And you, ye heroes of the past,
  Who serv’d your country to the last,
  And bought her freedom with your blood,
  Cornwallis, Duncan, Collingwood! 
  Rise, if ye can, and mark the wretch
  Who dares his impious arm to stretch
  And scrawl upon the graves of those
  Who gave him freedom and repose! 
  And can no rev’rence for the dead
  Ye heartless crew, no sense of dread
  To place your names on aught so high
  As e’en the tombs where heroes lie,
  Force you with horror to recede
  From such a sacrilegious deed? 
  Go, spread it to the winds of heaven,
  That they, who to our isle have giv’n
  Their blood, their services, their breath,
  Sleep in dishonoured graves in Death.