The Queer, the Quaint and the Quizzical: A Cabinet for the Curious

To meet a magpie portends misfortune in a journey, and it is thought best to return. It is the usual habit of the peasants to cross themselves when they meet a single chattering magpie. In the north of England the bird is thus addressed—

Of all living creatures in Russia, magpies are those whose shapes witches like best to take. The wife of the false Demetrius, according to popular poetry, escaped from Moscow in the guise of a magpie.

Why the Magpie Builds but Half a Nest.

The half-nest of the magpie is accounted for by a rural ornithological legend. Once on a time, when the world was very young, the magpie, by some accident or other, although she was quite as cunning as she is at present, was the only bird that was unable to build a nest. In this perplexity she applied to the other members of the feathered race, who kindly undertook to instruct her. So, on a day appointed, they assembled for the purpose, and, the materials having been collected, the blackbird said, "Place that stick there," suiting the action to the word, as she commenced the work. "Ah!" said the magpie, "I knew that before." The other birds followed with their suggestions, but to every piece of advice the magpie kept saying, "Ah! I knew that before." At length, when the nest was half finished, the patience of the company was fairly exhausted by the pertinacious conceit of the magpie; so all left her, with the united exclamation, "Well, Mistress Mag, as you seem to know all about it, you may finish the nest yourself." Their resolution was obdurate and final, and to this day the magpie exhibits the effects of partial instruction by her incomplete abode.

A Swallow Drinks the King's Health.

Aubrey, in his "Miscellanies," relates that "At Stretton, in Hertfordshire, 1648, when Charles I. was prisoner, the tenant of the manor-house there sold excellent cyder to gentlemen of the neighborhood. Among others that met there was old Mr. Hill, B. D., parson of the parish, quondam Fellow of Brazennose College at Oxford. This venerable good old man one day (after his accustomed fashion), standing up, with his head uncovered, to drink his Majesty's health, saying, 'God bless our gracious sovereign,' as he was going to put the cup to his lips, a swallow flew in at the window, and pitched on the brim of the little earthen cup (not half a pint) and sipt, and so flew out again. This was in the presence of the aforesaid Parson Hill, Major Gwillim, and two or three more that I knew very well then, my neighbors, and whose joint testimony of it I have more than once had in that very room. It was in the bay-window of the parlor, and Mr. Hill's back was next to the window. The cup is preserved there still as a rarity."

Birds of Paradise.

These birds have been the subject of many a fable. Old naturalists describe them as being destitute of feet, dwelling in the air, without an abiding place, nourished by dews and the odor of flowers. Tavernier relates, "that they come in flocks during the nutmeg season to the south cities of India. The strength of the nutmeg intoxicates them, and while they lie in this state on the earth, the ants eat off their legs!" Moore says, in his "Lalla Rookh—"

The natives of New Guinea and the neighboring islands looked upon the skins of these birds as sacred, and as charms against the dangers of war. In preparing them, the legs of the bird were cut off in a manner that gave rise to the idea, when the skins were exported from the islands, that the birds were legless.

The Owl.

The owl, "the fatal bellman which gives the sternest good night," was the dread of the superstitious from the earliest times. Virgil introduces the owl among the prodigies and horrors that foreran the suicide of Dido. It was said that two large owls would perch upon the battlements of Wardour Castle whenever an Arundel's last hour had come. The cry of the owl is heard by Lady Macbeth, during the murder. Hogarth introduces the owl in the murder scene of his "Four Stages of Cruelty."

The Ethiopians, when they wished to pronounce sentence of death upon any person, carried to him a table upon which an owl was painted. When the guilty man saw it, he was expected to destroy himself with his own hand. To the peasants, the cry of the owl foretells hail and rain, accompanied by lightning. The practice of nailing the bird to a barn-door, to avert evil consequences, is common throughout Europe, and is mentioned by Palladius in his "Treatise on Agriculture." Pliny wrote: "If an owl be seen either within cities or otherwise abroad in any place, it is not for good, but prognosticates some fearful misfortune."

The Phœnix.

The Rabbins tell us "that all the birds having complied with the first woman, and, with her, having eaten of the forbidden fruit, except the phœnix, as a reward it obtained a sort of immortality. It lived five hundred years in the wilderness; then making a nest of spices, it lighted it by the wafting of its wings, and the body was consumed. From the ashes arose a worm which grew up to be a phœnix." Moore, in "Paradise and the Peri," alludes to

"The myth of the phœnix," says George Stephens, in Archæologia, "is one of the most ancient in the world. Originally a temple type of the immortality of the soul, its birthplace appears to have been the sunny clime of the fanciful and gorgeous East. Even in the days of Job and David it was already a popular tradition in Palestine and Arabia."

Herodotus describes the phœnix in the following words: "The plumage is partly red, partly golden, while the general make and size are almost exactly that of the eagle. They tell a story in Egypt of what this bird does, which appears incredible,—that he comes all the way from Arabia, and brings the parent bird, all plastered over with myrrh, to the Temple of the Sun, and there buries the body. In order to bring him, they say, he first forms a ball of myrrh as big as he finds that he can carry; then he hollows out the ball and puts his parent inside, after which he covers over the opening with fresh myrrh, and the ball is then exactly of the same weight as at first. So he brings it to Egypt, as I have said, and deposits it in the Temple of the Sun." Ariosto alludes to this fable in the voyage of Astolfo—

The phœnix, as a sign over chemists' shops, was adopted from the association of this fabulous bird with alchemy.

The Wren.

The story of the contest for the crown, in which the wren outwitted the eagle, is traditional in Germany, France, Ireland and other countries. It seems that the birds all met together one day, and settled among themselves that which ever of them could fly the highest was to be king of them all. As they were starting, the wren, unknown to the eagle, perched himself on his tail. Away flew the birds, and the eagle soared far above the others, until, tired, he perched himself on a rock, and declared that he had gained the victory. "Not so fast," cried the wren, getting off the tail and springing above the eagle; "you have lost your chance, and I am king of the birds." The eagle, angry at the trick played upon him, gave the wren, as he came down, a smart stroke with his wing, from which time the wren has never been able to fly higher than a hawthorn bush.

The story is told with a different conclusion in Germany. According to the German version, the tricky wren was imprisoned in a mouse-hole, and the owl was set to watch before it, whilst the other birds were deliberating upon the punishment to be inflicted upon the offender. The owl fell asleep, and the prisoner escaped. The owl was so ashamed that he has never ventured to show himself by daylight.

In the Ojibua legend the gray linnet is the tricky bird, and the verdict was rendered in favor of the eagle, for he not only flew nearest to the sun, but carried the linnet with him.

In France the wren is called roitelet (little king), and also poulette au bon Dieu, "God's little hen." To kill it or to rob its nest would bring down lightning on the culprit's head. Robert Chambers, in "Popular Rhymes," says—

At Carcasonne the wren was carried about on a staff adorned with a garland of olive, oak and mistletoe. In the Isle of Man the wren is believed to be a transformed fairy.

White-breasted Birds.

In Devonshire the appearance of a white-breasted bird has long been considered an omen of death. This belief has been traced to a circumstance which happened to the Oxenham family in that county, and related by Howell, in his "Familiar Letters," wherein is the following monumental inscription: "Here lies John Oxenham, a goodly young man, in whose chamber, as he was struggling with the pangs of death, a bird with a white breast was seen fluttering about his bed, and so vanished." The same circumstance is related of his sister Mary, and two or three others of the family.

The Penguin's Solitary Egg.

The female penguin of Patagonia does not commit her offspring to any kind of nest. She constantly carries her solitary egg in a pouch formed by a fold in the skin of the abdomen, and it is held so fast in this that she leaps or sometimes rolls from rock to rock without letting it fall. It is well for her she does so, for should such a mishap befall her the male bird chastises her without pity.

The Crocodile Plover.

One of the best friends of the crocodile is a little bird of the plover species. The mouth of the reptile is infested with painful parasites, and the bird fearlessly flies into the open jaws and picks out the insects. The crocodile appears to be conscious of this kindly office, for it never offers to hurt its little feathered friend.

Peacocks' Crests.

In ancient times peacocks' crests 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, gilt spurs and peacocks' crests, such as would be for his credit."

Worshipful Cranes.

Tame cranes, kept in the Middle Ages, are said to have stood before the table at dinner, and kneeled and bowed the head when a bishop pronounced the benediction. But how they knelt is as fairly open to inquiry as how Dives could take his seat in torment, as he did, according to an old carol, "all on a serpent's knee."

The Great Auk.

Pennant says that this bird never wanders beyond soundings, by which sailors are assured that land is not very remote. Aristophanes tells us that the Greek mariners, more than two thousand years ago, made note of the habits and movements of birds.

The Kingfisher.

Sir Thomas Brown, in his "Vulgar Errors," says: "A kingfisher hanged by the bill sheweth what quarter the wind is, by an occult and secret property, converting the breast to that part of the horizon from whence the wind doth blow. This is a received opinion, and very strange, introducing natural weathercocks and extending magnetical positions as far as animal natures, a conceit supported chiefly by present practice, yet not made out by reason nor experience." The ancients believed that so long as the female kingfishers sat on their eggs, no storm or tempest disturbed the ocean. In Wild's "Iter Boreale," we read—

Gmelin, in his "Voyage en Sibérie," says that "the Tartars believe that if they touch a woman, or even her clothes, with a feather from a kingfisher, she must fall in love with them. The Ostiacs take the skin, the bill and the claws of this bird, shut them up in a purse, and so long as they preserve this sort of amulet they believe they have no ill to fear. The person who told me of this means of living happily could not forbear shedding tears, for the loss of a kingfisher's skin had caused him to lose both his wife and his goods."

The Albatross.

The albatross is remarkable for its migrations; indeed, it may almost be said to pass from pole to pole, and is seen at a greater distance from land than any other bird. Hence sailors regard this companion of their voyage with superstitious fondness. Coleridge speaks of the albatross in his "Ancient Mariner"—

The Stork.

A feeling of attachment, not devoid of superstition, procures the stork an unmolested life in all Moslem countries. The Dutch regard them as birds of good omen, and a wagon-wheel is often laid upon the house-top for the stork to build his nest on, during which time the house is safe from fire. It is sometimes called by them the "fire-fowl" and "baby-bringer."

In North Germany, the first time in the year that a girl hears the stork, if it clatter with its bill, she will break something; if it be flying, she will be a bride before the year is out; if it be standing, she will be asked to stand godmother.

Storks are "fabled" to be very attentive to their aged parents, carrying them from place to place and feeding them if they are blind. Aristophanes says—

Cocks and Hens.

Schweinfurth, in his "Heart of Africa," gives the following curious auguries from cocks and hens, common to various negro tribes: "An oily fluid, concocted from a red wood called 'Bengye,' is administered to a hen. If the bird dies, there will be misfortune in war; if it survives, there will be victory. Another mode of trying their fortune consists in seizing a cock and ducking its head repeatedly under water, until the creature is stiff and senseless. They then leave it to itself. If it should rally, they draw an omen that is favorable to their design: if it should succumb, they look for an adverse issue."

A curious notion respecting fowls existed in various parts of England. On the morning of St. Valentine's day, the girls, before opening the outer door, would look into the yard through the key-hole. If they saw a cock and hen in company, it was taken for granted that the person most interested would be married before the year was out.

In Hooker's "Tour in Morocco," recently published, he mentions that in a storm in the heights of the Atlas, one of his attendants cut the throat of a cock he carried, to appease the wrath of the demons of the mountains.

Mr. Dalyell, in his "Darker Superstitions of Scotland," observes that during the prevalence of infectious diseases in the East, a cock was killed over the bed of the invalid, sprinkling him with the blood. A red cock was dedicated by sick persons in Ceylon to a malignant divinity, and afterwards offered as a sacrifice in the event of recovery.

In "Credulities Past and Present," it is stated that "in Durham there is a superstition that if any person was bewitched, the author of the evil might be discovered by the following means: To steal a black hen, take out the heart, stick it full of pins, and roast it at midnight. The 'double' of the witch would come and nearly pull the door down. If the 'double' was not seen, any one of the neighbors who had passed a remarkably bad night was fixed upon!"

Led by a Gander.

In Germany an aged blind woman was led to church every Sunday by a gander, which dragged her along, holding her gown in his beak. As soon as the old woman was seated in her pew the gander retired to the church-yard to feed upon the grass, and when the service was ended he conducted his mistress to her home.—Menault.

Crows Lost in a Fog.

The Hartford Times tells a curious story of a flock of crows in that vicinity who recently lost their way in a fog. They lost their bearings at a point directly above the South Green, in Hartford. For a good while they hovered there, coming low down, circling and diving aimlessly about, like a blindfolded person in "blind man's buff," and keeping up a hoarse cawing and general racket beyond description. It was plain enough that of the entire company each individual crow was not only puzzled and bothered, but highly indignant, and inclined to utter "cuss words" in his frantic attempts to be heard above the general din, and tell the others which way to go. Once or twice the whole flock swept down to a distance of not more than one hundred feet above the street. Finally, after going around for many times, they sailed away in a southerly direction, evidently having got some clue to the way out of the fog, or desperately resolved to go somewhere till they could see daylight.

The Peacock at Home.

Peacocks are found in almost all parts of India and Siam, and the multitudes in which they occur in some districts is wonderful. Colonel Williamson, in his "Oriental Field Sports," says: "About the passes in the Jungletery district whole woods were covered with the beautiful plumage, to which a rising sun imparted additional brilliancy. I speak within bounds when I assert that there could not have been less than 1200 or 1500 pea-fowls, of various sizes, within sight of the spot where I stood." Sir James Emerson Tennent says, in his work on Ceylon, "that in some of the unfrequented portions of the eastern province, to which Europeans rarely resort, and where the pea-fowl are unmolested by the natives, their number is so extraordinary that, regarded as game, it ceased to be sport to destroy them; and their cries at early morning are so tumultuous and incessant as to banish sleep, and amount to an actual inconvenience."

Story of the Dodo.

This extinct bird was a native of Mauritius, in the Indo-African Ocean, and was first described by Van Neck, a Dutchman, in 1598, in which year a living specimen was embarked for Holland, but died on its way. This specimen is supposed to have been preserved at Leyden; and one of the feet is believed to be that in the British Museum. Several successive voyagers mention the bird, down to Canche, in 1638, in which year a living dodo was brought to England by Sir Hamon l'Estrange, who describes the back as of "dunn or deare colour." It was exhibited for money in London, in a house which bore a figure of the bird represented on canvas. This specimen has been traced to Tradescant's Museum at Lambeth, whence it was conveyed, in 1682, to Oxford by Ashmole. The body and a leg were destroyed by vermin before 1775, but the other leg and the head are preserved to this day in the Ashmolean Museum, in which place there also is a large drawing of a dodo, taken from nature, by John Savery. It was not related to the ostrich or the vulture, as many have supposed, but was closely allied to the pigeons and the solitaire bird seen by Leguat in the Island of Rodrigeux in 1691.—Wells.

An Old Gander.

Willoughby states, in his work on Ornithology, that a friend of his possessed a gander eighty years of age, which in the end became so ferocious that they were forced to kill it, in consequence of the havoc it committed in the barn-yard. He also mentions a swan three centuries old and several parrots that attained the age of one hundred and fifty years.

Chaffinch Contest.

At the town of Armentières, in France, there is a fete du pays, in which the chaffinch and its fellows are the chief actors and objects of attraction. Numbers of these birds are trained with the greatest care and no small share of cruelty, for they are frequently blinded by their owners, that their song may not be interrupted by the sight of any external object. The point upon which the amusement, the honor and the emolument rests is the number of times a bird will repeat his song in a given time.

A day being fixed, the amateurs repair to the appointed place, each with his bird in a cage. The prize is then displayed, and the birds are placed in a row. A bird-fancier notes how many times each bird sings, and another verifies his notes. In the year 1812, a chaffinch repeated his song seven hundred times in one hour. Emulated by the songs of each other, they strain their little plumed throats, as if conscious that honor was to result from their exertions.

The Fabulous Roc.

The roc, the huge bird that gave Sindbad the sailor his ride through the air, is not to be compared with some of those mentioned in the Talmud. Some mariners saw one of those large birds standing up to the lower joint of the leg in a river, and thinking the water could not be deep, they were hastening to bathe, when a voice from heaven said: "Step not in there; seven years ago a carpenter dropped his axe there, and it hath not yet reached the bottom."

Fable of the Pelican.

The pelicans are said to carry water to their young, as well as food, in their pouch. During the night the pelican sits with its bill resting on its breast. The nail or hook which terminates the bill is red, and Mr. Broderip supposes that the ancient fable of the pelican feeding its young with blood from its own breast originated from its habit of pressing the bill upon the breast in order the more easily to empty the pouch, when the red tip might be mistaken for blood.

Night Owls.

It is worthy of remark that in all owls that fly by night the exterior edges and sides of the wing-quills are slightly recurved, and end in fine hairs or points, by means of which the bird can pass through the air with the greatest silence—a provision necessary to enable it the better to surprise its prey.—Adam White.

Imprisoned During Incubation.

In his work on "The Birds of India," M. Jerdon details the curious domestic arrangements of some species of the genus Homrain of French naturalists, the males of which, at the time of laying, imprison the female in her nest. They close the entrance to it by means of a thick wall of mud, leaving only a small hole by which the hen breathes and through which she protrudes her beak to receive food, which is brought by her spouse. Though barbarous enough to imprison her, he is not cruel enough to starve her. This forced retirement only ceases with the termination of the hatching, when the pair break the prison door.

Love-Birds.

These birds receive their name from the affection which they manifest towards one another. Anatomically, this genus is remarkable in the parrot tribe for having no furcula, or merry-thought bone.

Penguin Breeding Grounds.

These birds often occupy acres for their breeding ground, which is laid out and leveled and divided into squares, as nicely as if done by a surveyor. They march between the compartments as accurately as soldiers on parade, and somewhat resembling them from a distance, or, according to another similitude which has been used, looking like bands of little children in white aprons. Bennett describes one breeding ground on Macquarie Island as covering thirty or forty acres, and, to give some notion of the multitudes, speaks of 30,000 or 40,000 birds as continually landing, and as many putting to sea.

The Ear of Birds not to be Deceived.

A bird-catcher, wishing to increase his stock of bullfinches, took out his caged bird and his limed twigs and placed them in such a situation of hedge and bush as he judged favorable to his success. It so happened that his own bird was an educated one, such as is usually termed a piping bullfinch. In the first instance a few accidentally thrown out natural notes or calls had attracted three or four of his kindred feather, which had taken their station not far distant from the cage. There they stood in doubt and curiosity, and, presently, moving inch by inch and hop by hop toward him and the fatal twigs, they again became stationary and attentive. It was in this eager and suspended moment that the piping bullfinch set up the old country dance-tune of "Nancy Dawson." Away flew every astonished bullfinch as fast as wings could move, in confusion and alarm.

A Bird Hammock.

In his voyage to India, Sonnerat speaks of a Cape titmouse, the nest of which is made of cotton and is shaped like a bottle. While the female is hatching inside, the male, a most watchful sentinel, remains outside in a pouch or hammock, fixed to one side of the neck of the nest. When his mate moves off and he wishes to follow her, he beats the opening of the nest violently with his wing until he closes it, in order to protect the young from enemies.

Sagacity of a Bird.

In the museum of Brown University, Providence, R. I., is a curiosity in the shape of a bird's nest. Aside from its ingenious construction as a swinging nest, partly suspended by strings and cords carefully woven into it and around the slender branch which holds it, another evidence of the builder's sagacity is given. As the young birds grew, and the nest daily became heavier, the mother saw that the slender twig, about the thickness of a pipe-stem, to which it was attached, could not support it much longer, so she made it secure by fastening a stout cord about it and passing the end around a strong limb above, which steadied it and made it safe.

Change of Sight in Birds.

Birds destined to move in the medium of a very rare atmosphere and which has but little tendency to refract the rays of the sun, have a great quantity of aqueous humor, in order that the light, strongly refracted in entering their eyes, may bring distinct images. Thus birds at heights where they appear to us only as points, perceive the smallest reptile concealed in the grass. But, as presbyte birds do not distinguish objects when brought near, nature has provided for this difficulty, which occurs when they descend from the heights of the air to seize their prey. To provide for this emergency, they have a membrane, by means of which they remove the crystalline lens from the retina; and thus changing the power of the eye by changing the focal distance of objects, as we do with spectacles, they never lose sight of their prey, whether in the air or on the ground.

Nest of the Flamingo.

The flamingo arranges its nest in a peculiar way, as its long legs would not adapt themselves to the ordinary style of nest-building. The nests are placed upon the ground, are built solely of coarsely-tempered mud, and are very curiously shaped, being like narrow, lengthened cones. They are twenty inches in height, and their truncated summit presents a concavity, at the bottom of which the female deposits her eggs. In order to hatch them she places her abdomen over them, and allows her legs to hang down on both sides of the raised nest.

Barking of Dogs.

The Australian dog never barks; indeed, Gardiner, in his "Music of Nature," states "that dogs in a state of nature never bark; they simply whine, howl and growl; the explosive noise is only heard among those which are domesticated." Sonnini speaks of the shepherd dogs in the wilds of Egypt as not having this faculty; and Columbus found the dogs which he had previously carried to America to have lost their propensity for barking.

Superstitions about Eggs.

Thiers, in his "Traité des Superstitions," observes that he has known people who preserved all the year such eggs as are laid on Good Friday, as they think them good to extinguish fires when thrown on them.

People in the northern parts of Germany, remarks William Jones, say that to cross one's face with the first new-laid egg of a chicken that has been hatched in spring and begins to lay shortly before Christmas of the same year, is considered the means of improving and beautifying the complexion.

Camden, in his "Ancient and Modern Manners of the Irish," says that if the owners of horses eat eggs, they must take care to eat an even number, otherwise some mischief will betide the horses. Grooms are not allowed eggs, and the riders are obliged to wash their hands after eating eggs.

In Derbyshire it is considered a bad omen to gather eggs and bring them into the house after dark. Eggs ought not to be brought in on Sunday, and no hen must be set on that day. The number of eggs for a setting must be either eleven or thirteen; the number must be odd, and if twelve eggs are sat upon, the hen will scarcely succeed in hatching them; or, if hatched, the chickens will do no good.

In some parts of England it is believed that the first egg laid by a white pullet, placed under the pillow at night, will bring dreams of those you wish to marry.

In some parts of Java, at a wedding, the bride, as a sign of her subjection, kneels and washes the feet of the bridegroom, after he has trodden upon raw eggs.

In Ireland, at Hallow E'en, among other curious customs, the women take the yolks from some eggs boiled hard, fill the cavity with salt, and eat egg, shell and salt. They are careful not to quench their thirst until morning. If at night they dream that their lovers are at hand with water, they believe they will be jilted.

The Camel as a Scape-Goat.

A very singular account of the use to which a camel is sometimes put is given by the traveler Bruce. He tells us that he saw one employed to appease a quarrel between two parties, somewhat in the same way as the scape-goat was used in the religious sacrifices of the Jewish people. The camel being brought out, was accused of all the injuries, real or fancied, which belonged to each. All the mischief that had been done they accused this camel of doing. They upbraided it with being the cause of all the trouble that had separated friends, called it by every opprobious epithet, finally killed it, and then declared themselves reconciled over its body.

The Mark of the Cross on the Ass.

It is a common superstition that the dark marks across the shoulders of the ass, and which bear some resemblance to a cross, were given as memorials of our Saviour having entered Jerusalem riding on one of that humble species. In the north of England, however, a tradition prevails that the dark streaks are a memento of Balaam's having thrice smitten one of the family, which carried him, and, as the Bible states, reproved him for wilful disobedience of the Divine command.

White Elephants.

White elephants are reverenced throughout the East, and the Chinese pay them a certain kind of worship. The Burmese monarch is called "The King of the White Elephants," and is regarded under that title with more than ordinary veneration, which oriental despotism extracts from its abject dependants.

Tenacity of Life in an Elephant.

In March, 1826, it became necessary to kill an infuriated elephant at Exeter Change, in London. One hundred and fifty-two bullets were fired into him at short range, and directed toward vital parts, before he fell dead. It was found necessary to kill an elephant at Geneva, May 31st, 1820. Three ounces of prussic acid and three ounces of arsenic were administered, but produced no effect. He was shot by a cannon thrust through a breach in the wall, the muzzle almost touching him. The ball entered near the ear, behind the right eye, went through a thick partition on the opposite side of the enclosure, and spent itself against a wall. The animal stood still two or three seconds, then tottered, and fell without any convulsive movement.

Ears of the Elephant.

The ears of the African elephant are said to be much larger, in proportion to the size of the animal, than those of the Indian species. Baker, the African traveler, says that he has frequently cut off an ear of one of these animals to form a mat, on which he has slept comfortably.

A Shaved Bear.

"At Bristol I saw a shaved monkey shown for a fairy, and a shaved bear, in a check waistcoat and trousers, sitting in a great chair as an Ethiopian savage. This was the most cruel fraud I ever saw. The unnatural position of the beast and the brutality of the woman keeper, who sat upon his knee, put her arm around his neck, called him husband and sweetheart, and kissed him, made it the most disgusting spectacle I ever witnessed. Cottle was with me."—Southey.

Retailing a Lion.

A lion in a Cincinnati menagerie recently lost a part of his tail. A vicious hyena, confined in an adjoining cage, nipped it off, for want of something better or worse to do. The Enquirer of that city tells the sequel of the story—

"The noble king of the woods was much mortified in consequence, and it was feared would worry himself to death. He kept continually biting his tail and playing all kinds of mysterious pranks in his cage. Two men were kept continually employed, at an expense of $21 a week each, to watch the lion and prevent him from further injury upon himself.

"Mr. John Carney, the new superintendent of the Zoological Gardens, devised a plan for the pacification of the king of the forest, which has succeeded beyond the most sanguine expectations. He had a small box-cage constructed adjoining the lion's cell, and coaxed the wounded beast therein. The cage was so constructed that the lion could not turn about in it. Once in, his tail was treated medically, and covered with a black snake's skin. The lion now seems perfectly satisfied with the amendment to his tail, and holds his head as erect and is as proud as ever. Mr. Carney is a genius."

Magpie Stoning a Toad.

There is a story told of a tame magpie which was seen busily employed in a garden gathering pebbles, and with much solemnity and a studied air dropping them into a hole about eighteen inches deep, made to receive a post. After dropping each stone it cried "Currack" triumphantly, and set off for another. On examining the spot, a poor toad was found in the hole, which the magpie was stoning for his amusement.

Cynocephalic Apes.

A correspondent in the "Transvaal Republic" writes that a species of large cynocephalic apes are in the habit of ravaging the coffee plantations there, which therefore have to be guarded. Among the coffee trees there grows a shrub whose fruit the apes particularly enjoy. But a species of wasp had fastened their nests to these shrubs, and the apes were kept from their tempting food by their fear of being stung. One morning fearful cries were heard from the apes, and the following scene was witnessed: A large baboon, the leader of the band, was throwing some young apes down into the shrubs, that they might break off the wasp nests with the shock of their fall. The poor victims, stung by the infuriated insects, were crying piteously, but the old baboon paid no heed to their miserable condition. While they were down below, suffering from the anger of the wasps, he quietly proceeded to regale himself with the fruit, now safely within his reach, and occasionally threw a handful to some females and young a little way off.

Monkeys Demanding their Dead.

Mr. Forbes tells a story of a female monkey who was shot by a friend of his and carried to his tent. Forty or fifty of her tribe advanced with menacing gestures, but stood still when the gentleman pointed his gun at them. One, however, who appeared to be the chief of the tribe, came forward, chattering and threatening in a furious manner. Nothing short of firing at him seemed likely to drive him away. At length he approached the door of the tent with every sign of grief and supplication, as if he were begging for the body. It was given to him; he took it in his arms and carried it to his companions with actions expressive of affection, after which they all disappeared.

Can Dogs Count?

A gentleman on a visit to Scotland came across some men who were washing sheep. Close to the water where the operation was being carried on was a small pen, in which a detachment of ten sheep were placed handy to the men for washing. While watching the performance his attention was called to a sheep-dog lying down close by. This animal, on the pen becoming nearly empty, without a word from any one, started off to the main body of the flock, and brought back ten of their number, and drove them into the empty washing-pens. The fact of his bringing exactly the same number of sheep as had vacated it he looked upon at first as a strange coincidence—a mere chance. But he continued looking on, and, much to his surprise, as soon as the men had reduced the number to three sheep, the dog started off again, and brought back ten more, and so he continued throughout the afternoon, never bringing one more nor one less, and always going for a fresh lot when only three were left in the pen, evidently being aware that during the time the last three were washing he would be able to bring up a fresh detachment.

Can Hens Count?

On one occasion the author found a hen disposed to set in a horse-trough. She had but eight eggs under her, and he added five more. The next morning he noticed that she had discarded five of the eggs; they were replaced, and were again hustled to the other end of the trough. He next marked the eggs, in order to discover whether she objected to the five eggs with which he had supplied her. At his next visit he found that she had once more rejected five eggs, two of which were marked and three not marked. She would accept but eight eggs, and was left to incubate in peace.

How Rats and Mice use their Tails.

To test the correctness of the popular belief that rats and mice use their tails for feeding purposes, when the food to be eaten is contained in vessels too narrow to admit the entire body of the animal, a writer in "Nature" made the following experiments: Into a couple of preserve bottles with narrow necks he put as much semi-liquid fruit jelly as filled them within three inches of the top. The bottles were then covered with bladder and set in a place frequented by rats. Next morning the covering of each bottle had a small hole gnawed in it, and the level of the jelly was lowered to an extent about equal to the length of a rat's tail, if inserted in the hole. The next experiment was still more decisive. The bottles were refilled to the extent of half an inch above the level left by the rats, a disk of moist paper laid upon the surface, and the bottles covered as before. The bottles were now laid aside in a place unfrequented by rats, until a good crop of mould had grown upon one of the moistened disks of paper. This bottle was then transferred to the place infested by the rats. Next morning the bladder had again been eaten through at one edge, and upon the mould were numerous and distinct tracings of the rats' tails, evidently caused by the animals sweeping their tails about in the endeavor to find a hole in the paper.

Kicked by a Camel.

The camel's kick is a study. As it stands demurely chewing the cud, and gazing abstractedly at some totally different far-away object, up goes a hind leg, drawn close in to the body, with the foot pointing out; a short pause, and out it flies with an action like the piston and connecting-rod of a steam-engine, showing a judgment of distance and direction that would lead you to suppose the leg gifted with perceptions of its own, independent of the animal's proper senses. I have seen a heavy man fired several yards into a dense crowd by the kick of a camel, and picked up insensible.—Keane.

Crocodiles of the Nile.

The crocodile of the Nile is one of the most celebrated of the eastern species. Among the ancient Egyptians it was a sacred animal, and to destroy it was a crime. The priests kept crocodiles in tanks in the temple grounds; they ornamented them with jewels and fed them with the choicest food. After death the bodies were carefully embalmed and buried with great ceremony, and it is not uncommon at this date to find crocodile mummies in their tombs.

Alligators Swallowing Stones.

The alligators on the banks of the Oronoko, previous to going in search of prey, swallow large stones, that they may acquire additional weight to aid them in diving and dragging their victims under water. Bolivar shot several with his rifle, and in all of them were found stones varying in weight according to the size of the animal. The largest killed was about seventeen feet in length, and had within him a stone which weighed sixty or seventy pounds.

Animals Forecasting Danger.

That animals forebode the approach of an earthquake is a fact which frequently has been demonstrated. When no sign announces to unthinking man the coming terror, these creatures indicate it by their agitation and their cries. Every animal, without exception, feels this singular presentiment, but it has been more particularly observed among the poultry in the barn-yard. Dogs howl distressingly, and great restlessness is shown by horses and oxen in the open country.

Humboldt relates that, in the earthquakes so frequent in South America, oxen and other domesticated animals will stand with their legs placed wide apart, as if they hoped by that device to lessen the danger of being precipitated into a crevasse which might suddenly open under their feet. It is for this reason that men in the same regions are advised, on the occurrence of an earthquake, to extend their arms from their bodies in the shape of a cross. The precaution is one which tradition and experience have impressed on the inhabitants.

Singular Provision against Famine.

The synapta is a marine animal closely allied to the sea-cucumber. If one of them is preserved in sea-water for a short time, and subjected to a forced fast, a very strange thing will be observed. The animal, being unable to feed itself, successively detaches various parts of its body, which it amputates spontaneously. "It would appear," says M. Quatrefages, "that the animal, feeling that it had not sufficient food to support its whole body, is able successively to abridge its dimensions by suppressing the parts it would be most difficult to support, just as we should dismiss the most useless mouths from a besieged city." This singular mode of meeting a famine is employed by the synapta up to the last moment. In order to preserve life in the head, all the other parts of the body are sacrificed.

Looking for the Head of the Bed.

Every one has observed that dogs, before they lie down, turn themselves round and round, which has been facetiously called "looking for the head of the bed." Those who have had an opportunity of witnessing the actions of animals in a wild state, know that they seek long grass for their beds, which they beat down and render more commodious by turning around in it several times. It would appear, therefore, that the habit of our domesticated dogs in this respect is derived from the nature of the same species in the wild state.—Mr. Jesse.

Getting Himself Outside of his Dinner.

The intelligence of a toad is remarkable. When an insect is too large to swallow, it thrusts the creature against a stone to push it down its throat. On one occasion, when a toad was attempting to swallow a locust, the head was down the former's throat, the hinder part protruding. The toad then sought a stone or clod, but as none were to be found, he lowered his head and crept along, pushing the locust against the ground. But the ground was too smooth (a rolled path), and the angle at which the locust lay to the ground too small, and thus no progress was made. To increase the angle, he straightened up his hind legs, but in vain. At length he threw up his hind quarters, and actually stood on his head, or, rather, on the locust sticking out of his mouth; and, after repeating this several times, succeeded in getting himself outside of his dinner.

Superstition about the Camel.

The Orientals declare that, at the time of the rising of the Pleiades, the camel sees the constellation before it is visible to the human eye, and will not lie down in any other direction than with its head toward the east.

Pedigree of Arabian Horses.

The Arabs claim that their finest horses are direct descendants of the stud of Solomon. The pedigree of an Arabian horse is hung around his neck soon after his birth, properly witnessed and attested. The following is the pedigree of a horse purchased by a French officer in Arabia:—

"In the name of God, the merciful and compassionate, and of Saed Mahomed, agent of the high God, and of the companions of Mahomed, and of Jerusalem. Praised be the Lord, the omnipotent Creator. This is a high-bred horse, and its colt's tooth is here in a bag about his neck, with his pedigree, and of undoubted authority, such as no infidel can refuse to believe. He is the son of Rabbamy, out of the dam Labadah, and equal in power to his sire of the tribe of Zazhalah; he is finely moulded, and made for running like an ostrich. In the honors of relationship he reckons Zuluah, sire of Mahat, sire of Kallac, and the unique Alket, sire of Manasseh, sire of Alsheh, father of the race down to the famous horse, the sire of Lahalala. And to him be ever abundance of green meat and corn, and water of life, as a reward from the tribe of Zazhalaha; and may a thousand branches shade his carcass from the hyæna of the tomb, from the howling wolf of the desert; and let the tribe of Zazhalah present him with a festival within an enclosure of walls; and let thousands assemble at the rising of the sun in troops hastily, where the tribe holds up, under a canopy of celestial signs within the walls, the saddle with the name and family of the possessor. Then let them strike the bands with a loud noise incessantly, and pray to God for immunity for the tribe of Zoab, the inspired tribe."

Voracity of the Mole.

A naturalist has calculated that a mole devours annually 20,000 grubs. It is so voracious that it must eat every six hours. No animal is so favored in its carnivorous instincts as the mole; forty-four teeth studded with points never cease working from morning to night. It requires nourishment to such an extent, that if deprived of food for a day it dies of inanition. It is a complete eating machine, gulping down every day a proportionately enormous quantity of food, so that M. de la Blanchére was right in saying that "if we could magnify the mole to the size of an elephant, we should be face to face with the most terrific brute the world ever brought forth."

Cat Worship.

In the Middle Ages animals formed as prominent a part in the worship of the time as they did in the old religion of Egypt. The cat was a very important personage in religious festivals. At Aix, in Provence, on the festival of Corpus Christi, the finest tom cat of the country, wrapt in swaddling clothes like a child, was exhibited in a magnificent shrine to public admiration. Every knee was bent, every hand strewed flowers or poured incense, and the cat was treated in all respects as the god of the day.

Horses Feeding one Another.

M. de Bossanelle, captain of cavalry in the regiment of Beauvilliers, relates in his "Military Observations," printed in Paris in 1760, "that in the year 1757 an old horse of his company, that was very fine and full of mettle, had his teeth suddenly so worn down that he could not chew his hay and corn, and that he was fed for two months, and would still have been so fed had he been kept, by two horses on each side of him that ate in the same manger. These two horses drew hay from the rack, which they chewed, and afterward threw before the old horse; that they did the same with the oats, which they ground very small and also put before him. This was observed and witnessed by a whole company of cavalry, officers and men."

Odd Mode of Revenge.

Monkeys in India are more or less objects of superstitious reverence, and are, consequently, seldom destroyed. In some places they are fed, encouraged and allowed to live on the roofs of the houses. If a man wishes to revenge himself for any injury done him, he has only to sprinkle some rice or corn upon the top of his enemy's house or granary, just before the rains set in, and the monkeys will assemble upon it, eat all they can find outside, and then pull off the tiles to get at that which falls through the crevices. This, of course, gives access to the torrents which fall in such countries, and house, furniture and stores are all ruined.

Cats with Knotted Tails.

We extract the following paragraph from the narrative of a voyager in the Indian Ocean, because it contains an account of a rarity in natural history with which few, we suspect, are acquainted:—

"The steward is again pillowed on his beloved saltfish, and our only companion is a Malacca cat, who has also an attachment for the steward's pillow. Puss is a tame little creature and rubs herself mildly against our shoes, looking up in our faces and mewing her thoughts. Doubtless she is surprised that you have been so long looking at her without noticing the peculiarity in her tail, which so much distinguishes her from the rest of the female race in other quarters of the globe. Did you ever observe such a singular knot? so regular, too, in its formation? Some cruel monster must have tied it in a knot while puss was yet a kitten, and she has outlived both the pain and the inconvenience. But here comes a kitten, all full of gambols and fun, and we find that the tail is in precisely the same condition. So, then, this is a remarkable feature amongst the whole race of Malayan cats, but for which no one we meet with is able to give us a satisfactory explanation."

Tortoises Afraid of Heat and Rain.

Tortoises seem, by their thick shells, to be protected against all changes of the weather. But one of immense size, imported from the Galapagos Islands to England, was actually afraid of rain. Its owner says: "No part of its behaviour ever struck me more than the extreme timidity it always expresses with regard to rain; and though it has a shell that would secure it against a loaded cart, yet it exhibits as much solicitude about rain as a lady dressed in her best attire, shuffling away on the first sprinklings and running its head into a corner. If attended to, it becomes an excellent weather glass; for as sure as it walks elate, and as it were on tip-toe, feeding with great earnestness in the morning, so sure will it rain before night." The same tortoise was careful to keep out of the hot sun, and always sought a shady nook at mid-day in summer.

Pea Crabs.

The fact that these small crabs take up their abode within the shells of mollusks was well known to the ancients, and gave rise to many curious fables. A species is very common in the pinnæ (mollusks) of the Mediterranean, and was imagined to render important services to its host in return for its lodging, keeping a lookout for approaching dangers, against which the blind pinna itself could not guard, and particularly apprising it, that it might close its shell when the cuttle-fish came near. It is curious to find this repeated by Hasselquist, in the middle of the last century, as a piece of genuine natural history. Whether the pea crab lives at the expense of the mollusk, and sucks its juices, is uncertain. It is certain, however, that the flesh of such mollusks is palatable to pea crabs, as they eat it greedily in the aquarium.

Extraordinary Muscular Strength of the Bat.

When bats bring forth their young they are obliged to carry them on their backs, as they do not build nests like the birds, the little things hanging fast to their fur during flight. The extrordinary strength of muscle possessed by the bat is shown in the fact that two of the young, which are often born at a birth, weigh two-thirds as much as the parent. Thus, flying at nearly double its ordinary weight, we can fancy the power of this animal, surpassing in proportion the strength of the eagle or condor.

Great Digestive Powers.

In certain caterpillars the digestive power is so great that they swallow every day three or four times their own weight in food. If the elephant and rhinoceros were to feed on this scale, and were as numerous as the caterpillars, they would require but a short time to devour all the vegetation on the globe.

The Earwig.

This insect is supposed to have a "fondness" for getting into the human ear, the effect of which, it has been believed, is to penetrate the brain and cause madness. The earwig is not more likely than any other insect to enter the ear. The wings of the earwig, when fully expanded, are in shape precisely like the human ear, from which fact it is highly probable that the original name of the insect was ear-wing and not ear-wig, which appears to be entirely without meaning. The name is also traced to the Saxon ear-wigca, from its destroying ears of grain and fruit.

Eyes of the Cuttle-Fish.

The eyes of the cuttle-fish are so solid as to be almost calcareous. They are exceedingly beautiful, and reflect light with a splendid play of color, like an opal. They are used for necklace beads in Italy, and are highly valued objects for the jeweler's art.

Innate Appetite.

McKenzie mentions the following fact as having been witnessed by Sir James Hall: He had been engaged in making experiments in hatching eggs by artificial heat, and on one occasion observed in one of his boxes a chicken in the act of breaking from its confinement. It happened that just as the creature was getting out of the shell a spider ran along the box, when the chicken darted forward, seized and swallowed it.

Leaf-Butterfly of Java.

This butterfly, as a defense against the birds of the tropics, almost exactly imitates, in its color and appearance, the leaves of the trees among which it lives. The upper surface of the wings, when outspread, of a rich orange blue, is very marked, but the lower side consists of some shade of ash or brown or ochre, such as are found among dead and decaying leaves. When the insect is at rest on a tree, it resembles so closely a leaf that the most acute observation fails to note the difference. It sits on a twig, the wings closely fitted back to back, concealing the antennæ and head, which are drawn up beneath their basis. The little tails of the hind wing touch the branch and form a perfect stalk to the seeming leaf. The irregular outline of the wings gives exactly the perspective effect of the outline of a shriveled leaf.

The Jump of a Flea.

M. de Fonvielle, in his interesting work on the "Invisible World," maintains that a flea can raise itself from the ground to a height equal to two hundred times its stature. At this rate, he says, a man would only make a joke of jumping over the towers of Notre-Dame or the heights of Montmartre. A prison yard would be useless unless the walls were more than a quarter of a mile in height.

Book-Worms.

An instance is recorded of twenty-seven folio volumes being perforated, in a straight line, by the same worm, in such a manner that, by passing a cord through the round hole made by it, the twenty-seven volumes could be raised at once.

Spider Barometers.

If the weather is likely to become rainy, windy or in other respects disagreeable, spiders fix the terminating filaments, on which the whole web is sustained, unusually short. If the terminating filaments are made uncommonly long, the weather will be serene, and continue so, at least for ten or twelve days. If spiders be totally indolent, rain generally succeeds; their activity during rain is certain proof that it will be of short duration, and followed by fair and constant weather. Spiders usually make some alteration in their webs every twenty-four hours; if these changes take place between the hours of six and seven in the evening, they indicate a clear and pleasant night.