Extremely scarce and local in our islands, being confined to not more than half-a-dozen localities, this charming little bird, more than any others perhaps of our rarer species, is worth a journey to see. Inhabiting large and extensive reed-beds, it used formerly to be abundant in the fens of Huntingdon, Cambridge, and other eastern counties, but with the reclaiming and draining of the land it has slowly died out, only holding its own in those few places where Nature still reigns supreme. Its exact systematic position is doubtful, as it shows no close affinity with any other known species; one point, however, is absolutely certain, namely that its popular name of “Tit” is quite a misnomer, as it has no connection in appearance or habits with those delightful birds. The naturalist, therefore, who goes to visit him at home must not search for him on trees or look for his nest in holes. As the boat glides quietly past some reed-bed his first acquaintance of this bird will be the clear and unmistakable “ping-ping,” a note answered almost immediately by another close by. Soon, if he remains quiet, he will see a small light-brown bird with long tail rise from the reeds and, progressing with undulating flight, settle again a short distance on. Although very tame and unsuspicious, the Bearded Reedling is very hard to watch, owing to the thickness of the reeds in which he lives, but if we wait about patiently we can see a good deal of him as he searches the mud at the base of the reeds for minute molluscs, of which he is extremely fond. These he swallows whole, and having exhausted the treasures of one spot he will run up two reeds, resting one foot on each alternately, with surprising rapidity and then fly off with a merry “ping-ping” to renew his search in some other spot, and possibly, if the place be more open, we may see him scratch up the soft ooze with a peculiar backward motion of both feet and then eagerly scan the spot to see if his labours have met their reward. Early in April he pairs, and a nest of leaves and rushes, deeply cup-shaped and lined with the feathery tops of the reeds, is built. Materials are collected by both sexes, but especially by the cock, while the building itself is entirely carried on by the hen. A clutch of six eggs is laid; they are very round in shape and dead white, freckled with minute black markings. Two broods are reared in the season, the young being fed chiefly on insects. It is essentially a resident species and spends the whole year wandering over the reed-beds in family parties, feeding on insects, molluscs, or seeds, the party keeping together by a continual use of the call-note. At nightfall they all gather close together on some broken reed, where they sleep securely till dawn awakens them to another day of restless work and energy.