Peacocks' crests, in ancient times, were among the ornaments of the kings of England. Ernald de Aclent (Acland) paid a fine to King John in a hundred and forty palfries, with sackbuts, lorains, gilt spurs, and peacocks' crests, such as would be for his credit.—Some of our regiments of cavalry bear on their helmets, at present, the figure of a peacock.

ROMAN THEATRE AT ORANGE.

One of the most striking Roman provincial theatres is that of Orange, in the south of France. Perhaps it owes its existence, or at all events its splendour, to the substratum of Grecian colonists that preceded the Romans in that country. Its auditorium is 340 ft. in diameter, but much ruined, in consequence of the princes of Orange having used this part as a bastion in some fortification they were constructing.

The stage is tolerably preserved. It shows well the increased extent and complication of arrangements required for the theatrical representations of the age in which it was constructed, being a considerable advance towards the more modern idea of a play, as distinguished from the stately semi-religious spectacle in which the Greeks delighted. The noblest part of the building is the great wall at the back, an immense mass of masonry, 340 ft. in extent, and 116 ft. in height, without a single opening above the basement, and no ornament except a range of blank arches, about midway between the basement and the top, and a few projecting corbels to receive the footings of the masts that supported the velarium. Nowhere does the architecture of the Romans shine so much as when their gigantic buildings are left to tell their own tale by the imposing grandeur of their masses. Whenever ornament is attempted, their bad taste comes out. The size of their edifices, and the solidity of their construction, were only surpassed by the Egyptians, and not always by them; and when, as here, their mass stands unadorned in all its native grandeur, criticism is disarmed, and the spectator stands awe-struck at its majesty, and turns away convinced that truly "there were giants in those days." This is not, it is true, the most intellectual way of obtaining architectural effect, but it is the easiest and the most certain to secure the desired result.

A PISCATORIAL DOG.

Mr. Jukes, in his "Excursions in and about Newfoundland," speaks of a dog which appeared to be of the pure breed, and which he thought to be more intelligent than the mixed race. This animal caught his own fish, for which purpose he sat on a projecting rock, beneath a fish stage, on which the fish were laid to dry, watching the water, the depth being from six to eight feet, and the bottom quite white with fish-bones. On throwing a piece of cod-fish into the water, three or four heavy, clumsy-looking fish, called in Newfoundland sculpins, would swim to catch it. The instant one turned his broadside towards him, he darted down, and seldom came up without the fish in his mouth. He regularly carried them as he caught them to a place a few yards off, where he deposited them, sometimes making a pile of fifty or sixty in the day. As he never attempted to eat them, he appeared to fish for his amusement.

PHENOMENA OF SOUND.

In the gardens of Les Rochas, once the well-known residence of Madame de Sevigné, is a remarkable echo, which illustrates finely the conducting and reverberating powers of a flat surface. The Château des Rochas is situated not far from the interesting and ancient town of Vitre. A broad gravel walk on a dead flat conducts through the garden to the house. In the centre of this, on a particular spot, the listener is placed at the distance of about ten or twelve yards from another person, who, similarly placed, addresses him in a low and, in the common acceptation of the term, inaudible whisper, when, "Lo! what myriads rise!" for immediately, from thousands and tens of thousands of invisible tongues, starting from the earth beneath, or as if every pebble was gifted with powers of speech, the sentence is repeated with a slight hissing sound, not unlike the whirling of small shot passing through the air. On removing from this spot, however trifling the distance, the intensity of the repetition is sensibly diminished, and within a few feet ceases to be heard. Under the idea that the ground was hollow beneath, the soil has been dug up to a considerable depth; but without discovering any clue to the solution of the mystery.

ANTIQUE WATCH.