Poor Phil was once a blithe canary—

But then his mate was at his side;

His spirits never seemed to vary,

Till she, one autumn evening, died;—

And now upon his perch he clung,

With ruffled plumes and spirits low,

His carol hushed; or, if he sung,

'Twas some sad warble of his wo.

His little mistress came with seed:—

Alas! he would not, could not, feed.

She filled his cup with crystal dew;

She called—she whistled:—'twould not do;

The little mourner bowed his head,

And gently peeped—"My mate is dead!"

Alas, poor Phil! how changed art thou!

The gayest then, the saddest now.

The dribbled seed, the limpid wave,

Would purchase, then, thy sweetest stave;

Or, if thou hadst some softer spell,

Thine ear had stolen from the shell

That sings amid the silver sand

That circles round thy native land,

'Twas only when, with wily art,

Thou sought'st to charm thy partner's heart.

And she is gone—thy joys are dead—

Thy music with thy mate is fled!

Poor bird! upon the roost he sate,

With drooping wing, disconsolate;

And as his little mistress gazed,

Her brimming eyes with tears were glazed.

In vain she tried each wonted art

To heal the mourner's broken heart.

At last she went, with childish thought,

And to the cage a mirror brought.

She placed it by the songster's side—

And, lo! the image seemed his bride!

Forth from his perch he wondering flew,

Approached, and gazed, and gazed anew;

And then his wings he trembling shook,

And then a circling flight he took;

And then his notes began to rise,

A song of triumph, to the skies!

And since—for many a day and year,

That blissful bird—the mirror near—

With what he deems his little wife,

His partner still—has spent his life:

Content, if but the image stay,

Sit by his side, and list his lay!

Thus fancy oft will bring relief,

And with a shadow comfort grief.

THE BULFINCH.

A farmer in Scotland had a bulfinch which he taught to whistle some plaintive old Scottish airs. He reluctantly parted with the bird for a sum of money, which his narrow circumstances at the time compelled him to accept of; but inwardly resolved, if fortune should favor him, to buy it back, cost what it would. At the end of a year or so, a relation died, leaving him a considerable legacy. Away he went, the very day after he got intelligence of this pleasant event, and asked the person who had purchased the bulfinch, if he would sell it again, telling him to name his own price. The man would not hear of parting with the bird. The farmer begged just to have a sight of it, and he would be satisfied. This was readily agreed to; so, as soon as he entered the room where the bulfinch was kept, he began to whistle one of the fine old tunes which he had formerly taught it. The bulfinch remained in a listening attitude for a minute or two, then it grew restless, as if struggling with some dim recollection,—then it moved joyously to the side of the cage, and all at once it seemed to identify its old master, who had no sooner ceased, than it took up the tune, and warbled it with the tremulous pathos which marked the manner of its teacher. The effect was irresistible; the poor farmer burst into tears, and the matter ended by his receiving the bulfinch in a present: but report says, to his credit, that he insisted on making a present of money, in return.

THE SPARROW.

A few years since, a pair of sparrows, which had built in the thatch roof of a house at Poole, were observed to continue their visits to the nest long after the time when the young birds take flight. This unusual circumstance continued throughout the year; and in the winter, a gentleman who had all along observed them, determined on investigating the cause. He therefore mounted a ladder, and found one of the young ones detained a prisoner, by means of a piece of string, or worsted, which formed part of the nest, having become accidentally twisted round its leg. Being thus incapacitated from procuring its own sustenance, it had been fed by the continued exertions of its parents.

An old man belonging to the neighborhood of Glasgow, who was a soldier in his youth, mentions, that he became first reconciled to a foreign country, by observing a sparrow hopping about just as he had seen them do at home. "Are you here too, freen?" said he to the sparrow. He does not add that it returned a verbal answer to his exclamatory question; but he could not help fancying that it looked assent, as if it understood he was an exile, and wished him to take a lesson of resignation to circumstances.

THE CROW.

Miscellaneous Anecdotes.—In the year 1816, a Scotch newspaper states that a common crow, perceiving a brood of young chickens, fourteen in number, under the care of a parent hen, picked up one of them; but a young lady, seeing what had happened, suddenly pulled up the window, and calling out loudly, the plunderer dropped his prey. In the course of the day, however, the audacious and calculating robber, accompanied by thirteen others, came to the place where the chickens were, and each seizing one, got clearly off with the whole brood at once.

An instance of sagacity in the crow is told by Dr. Darwin. He had a friend, on the northern coast of Ireland, who noticed above a hundred crows at once, feeding on mussels. The plan they took to break them was, each to lift one in its bill, and ascend about thirty or forty yards in the air, and from thence let the mussels drop upon stones; thus they secured the flesh of the animal inhabitants.

During the war between Augustus Cæsar and Mark Antony, when the world looked with anxiety which way Fortune would turn herself, an indigent man in Rome, in order to be prepared to take advantage of whichever way she might incline, determined on making a bold hit for his own advancement; he had recourse, therefore, to the following ingenious expedient: He applied himself to the training of two crows with such diligence, that he taught them at length to pronounce distinctly, the one a salutation to Cæsar, and the other to Antony. When Augustus returned conqueror, the man went out to meet him, with one of the crows perched on his hand, which every little while exclaimed, Salve, Cæsar, Victor, Imperator! Augustus, greatly struck, and delighted with so novel a circumstance, purchased the bird of the man for a sum which immediately raised him to opulence.

There is a kind of crow, which is seen in England in flocks, called the hooded crow. It is said that one or two hundred of them will sometimes meet together as if upon some fixed plan; and at these times, a few of them sit with drooping heads, and others look very grave, as if they were judges, while others still are very bustling and noisy. In about an hour, the meeting breaks up, when one or two are generally found dead; and it has been supposed that this meeting is a sort of trial of some crows who have behaved ill, and who are punished in this severe way for their bad behavior.

THE RAVEN.

Miscellaneous Anecdotes.—This bird is very hardy, crafty, and wary. He is easily domesticated, and is very mischievous, readily catching up any thing glittering, and hiding it. There is a well-authenticated fact of a gentleman's butler having missed a great many silver spoons, and other articles, without being able to detect the thief for some time; at last he observed a tame raven with one in his mouth, and watched him to his hiding-place, where he found more than a dozen.

A young raven, fifteen months old, was taken from the nest when very young, and brought up by a keeper with his dogs. It was so completely domesticated that it would go out with the keeper, and when it took its flight farther than usual, at the sound of the whistle it would return and perch upon a tree or a wall, and watch all his movements. It was no uncommon thing for it to go to the moors with him, and to return—a distance of ten or twelve miles. It would even enter a village with the keeper, partake of the same refreshment, and never leave him until he returned home.

A gentleman who resided near the New Forest, Hampshire, England, had a tame raven, which used frequently to hop about the verge of the forest, and chatter to every one it met. One day, a person travelling through the forest to Winchester, was much surprised at hearing the following exclamation: "Fair play, gentlemen! fair play! for God's sake, gentlemen, fair play!" The traveller, looking round to discover from whence the voice came, to his great astonishment, beheld no human being near. But hearing the cry of "fair play" again repeated, he thought it must proceed from some fellow-creature in distress. He immediately rushed into that part of the forest from whence the cries came, where, to his unspeakable astonishment, the first objects he beheld were two ravens combating a third with great fury, while the sufferer, which proved to be the tame one aforesaid, kept loudly vociferating, "fair play;" which so diverted the traveller, that he instantly rescued the oppressed bird, by driving away his adversaries; and returned highly pleased with his morning adventure.

THE MAGPIE.

This bird, which is found in Europe, and also in the plains east of the Rocky Mountains, is remarkable alike for its loquacity and its disposition to theft—a trait of character which belongs to several birds of the same genus. Lady Morgan furnishes us with the following anecdote:—

"A noble lady of Florence resided in a house which still stands opposite the lofty Doric column which was raised to commemorate the defeat of Pietro Strozzi, and the taking of Sienna, by the tyrannic conqueror of both, Cosmo the First. She lost a valuable pearl necklace, and one of her waiting-women, a very young girl, was accused of the theft. Having solemnly denied the fact, she was put to the torture, which was then practised at Florence. Unable to support its terrible infliction, she acknowledged that 'she was guilty,' and, without further trial, was hung. Shortly after, Florence was visited by a tremendous storm; a thunderbolt fell on the figure of Justice, and split the scales, one of which fell to the earth, and with it fell the ruins of a magpie's nest, containing the pearl necklace. Those scales are still the haunts of birds, and I never saw them hovering round them, without thinking of those 'good old times,' when innocent women could be first tortured, and then hung, on suspicion."

We are informed by Plutarch of a magpie, belonging to a barber at Rome, which could imitate every word it heard uttered. It happened one day that some trumpets were sounded before the shop door, and for some days afterwards the magpie was quite mute, and appeared pensive and melancholy. This change in its manners greatly surprised all who knew it, and it was supposed that the sound of the trumpets had so completely stunned the poor bird, that it was deprived of both voice and hearing. It soon appeared, however, that this was not the case; for Plutarch says, the bird had been all the while occupied in profound meditation, studying how to imitate the sound of the trumpets, which had made a deep impression on him; and at last, to the astonishment of all its friends, it broke its long silence by a very perfect imitation of the flourish of the trumpets it had heard; observing with great accuracy all the repetitions, stops, and changes. But this turned out an unfavorable lesson, for the magpie forgot every thing else, and never afterwards attempted another imitation but that of the trumpets.

THE HUMMING-BIRD.

The following is from the pen of Wilson: "A nest of young humming-birds was once brought to me that were nearly fit to fly; one of them flew out of the nest and was killed. The other was fed with sugar and water, into which it thrust its bill, sucking it with great avidity. I kept it upwards of three months, feeding it on sugar and water; gave it fresh flowers every morning, sprinkled with the liquid, and surrounded the space in which I kept it with gauze, that it might not injure itself. It appeared gay, active, and full of spirit, humming from flower to flower, as if in its native wilds, and always expressed, by its motions and chirping, great pleasure at seeing fresh flowers introduced into its cage. Numbers of people visited it from motives of curiosity, and I took every precaution to preserve it, if possible, through the winter. Unfortunately, however, it got at large in the room, and, flying about, so injured itself, that it soon after died."

THE BLUE JAY.

"This elegant bird," says Wilson, "is distinguished as a kind of beau among the feathered tenants of our woods, by the brilliancy of his dress. He possesses the mischievous disposition of the jay family, and he seems particularly fond of exercising his malignant ingenuity against the owl. No sooner has he discovered the retreat of one of these, than he summons the whole feathered fraternity to his assistance, who surround the glimmering solitaire, and attack him from all sides, raising such a shout as might be heard, on a still day, more than half a mile off. When, in my hunting excursions, I have passed near this scene of tumult, I have imagined to myself that I heard the insulting party, venting their respective charges with all the virulence of a Billingsgate mob; the owl, meanwhile, returning every compliment with a broad, goggling stare. The war becomes louder and louder, and the owl, at length, forced to betake himself to flight, is followed by his whole train of persecutors, until driven beyond the boundaries of their jurisdiction."

Anecdotes.—A gentleman in South Carolina gives an account of a blue jay, which was brought up in his family, that had all the tricks and loquacity of a parrot; pilfered every thing he could carry off, and hid them in holes and crevices; answered to his name with great sociability when called on; could articulate a number of words pretty distinctly; and when he heard an uncommon noise, or loud talking, seemed impatient to contribute his share to the general festivity, by a display of all the oratorical powers he was possessed of.

"Having caught a jay in the winter season," says Mr. Bartram, "I turned him loose in the greenhouse, and fed him with corn, the heart of which he was very fond of. The grain being ripe and hard, the bird at first found a difficulty in breaking it, as it would start from his bill when he struck it. After looking about, as if considering a moment, he picked up his grain, carried and placed it close up in a corner on the shelf, between the wall and a plant-box, where being confined on three sides, he soon effected his purpose, and continued afterwards to make use of the same practical expedient."


 

ORDER III.

SCANSORIÆ,

CLIMBING BIRDS.

THE CUCKOO.

Dr. Jenner gives us the following anecdote: "I found one day the nest of a hedge-sparrow, which contained a cuckoo's and three hedge-sparrow's eggs. The next day, I found the bird had hatched, but the nest now contained only one sparrow, and the cuckoo. What was my astonishment to observe the young cuckoo, though so newly hatched, in the act of turning out the young hedge-sparrow! The mode of accomplishing this was very curious. The little animal, with the assistance of its rump and wings, contrived to get the bird on its back, and, making a lodgment for the burden, by elevating its elbows, clambered with it to the side of the nest till it reached the top, where resting for a moment, it threw off its load with a jerk, and quite disengaged it from the nest. It remained in this situation a short time, feeling about with the extremities of its wings, as if to be convinced that the business was properly done, and then dropped into the nest again."

THE WOODPECKER.

The Red-headed Woodpecker.—Of the woodpecker there are several species; but this is one of the best known. It is, properly speaking, a bird of passage; though even in the Eastern States individuals are found during moderate winters, as well as in the states of New York and Pennsylvania. Notwithstanding the care which this bird takes to place its young beyond the reach of enemies, within the hollows of trees, yet there is one deadly foe, against whose depredations neither the height of the tree nor the depth of the cavity, is the least security. This is the black snake, who frequently glides up the trunk of the tree, and, like a skulking savage, enters the woodpecker's peaceful apartment, devours the eggs, or helpless young, in spite of the cries and flutterings of the parents, and, if the place is large enough, coils himself up in the spot they occupied, where he will sometimes remain several days.

The Ivory-billed Woodpecker.—Wilson says, "I found one of these birds while travelling in North Carolina. It was slightly wounded in the wing, and, on being caught, uttered a loudly-reiterated and most piteous note, exactly like the violent crying of a child, which terrified my horse very much. It was distressing to hear it. I carried it with me under cover to Wilmington. In passing through the streets, its affecting cries surprised every one within hearing, especially the females, who hurried to the doors and windows with looks of anxiety and alarm. I rode on, and on arriving at the piazza of the hotel where I intended to put up, the landlord came forward, and a number of persons who happened to be there, all equally alarmed at what they heard; this was greatly increased by my asking whether he could furnish me with accommodations for myself and baby. The man looked foolish, and the others stared with astonishment. After diverting myself a few minutes at their expense, I drew out my woodpecker, and a general laugh took place. I took him up stairs, and locked him up in my room, and tied him with a string to the table. I then went out to procure him some food. On my return, I had the mortification to find that he had entirely ruined the mahogany table, on which he had wreaked his whole vengeance. I kept him three days, but, refusing all sustenance, he died, to my great regret."

THE PARROT.

This is a large genus of birds, consisting of two hundred species, distinguished by the peculiar structure of the bill, which assists them in climbing. They are gregarious, have generally very brilliant plumage, and inhabit warm regions.

Anecdotes.—The gray parrot often lives to a great age. We are told by Le Vaillant of one which lived in the family of Mr. Huyser, in Amsterdam, for thirty-two years; had previously lived forty-one with that gentleman's uncle; and there can be little doubt that it was two or three years old at the time of its arrival in Europe. In the day of its vigor, it used to speak with great distinctness, repeat many sentences, fetch its master's slippers, call the servants, &c. At the age of sixty, its memory began to fail. It moulted regularly twice a year, till the age of sixty-five, when the red feathers of the tail gave place to yellow ones, after which, no other change of plumage took place. When Le Vaillant saw it, it was in a state of complete decrepitude, and, having lost its sight and memory, had lapsed into a sort of lethargic condition, and was fed at intervals with biscuit dipped in Madeira.

Leo, son of the Emperor Basilius Macedo, was accused, by a monk, of having a design upon the life of his father, and was thereupon cast into prison, from which he was freed through the instrumentality of a parrot. The emperor, upon a certain occasion, entertained some of the greatest nobles of his court. They were all seated, when a parrot, which was hung up in the hall, in a mournful tone cried out, "Alas! alas! poor Prince Leo!" It is very probable that he had frequently heard courtiers passing, bewailing the prince's hard fortune in those terms. He frequently repeated these words, which at last so affected the courtiers that they could not eat. The emperor observed it, and entreated them to make a hearty repast; when one of them, with tears in his eyes, said, "How should we eat, sire, when we are thus reproached by this bird of our want of duty to your family? The brute animal is mindful of its lord; and we, that have reason, have neglected to supplicate your majesty in behalf of the prince, whom we all believe to be innocent, and to suffer under calumny." The emperor, moved by these words, commanded them to fetch Leo out of prison, admitted him to his presence, and restored him, first to his favor, and then to his former dignities.

Buffon says, "I have seen a parrot very ridiculously employed, belonging to a distiller who had suffered pretty severely in his circumstances from an informer that lived opposite him. This bird was taught to pronounce the ninth commandment,—'Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor,' with a very clear, loud, articulate voice. The bird was generally placed in a cage over against the informer's house, and delighted the whole neighborhood with its persevering exhortations."

Some years since, a parrot in Boston, that had been taught to whistle in the manner of calling a dog, was sitting in his cage at the door of a shop. As he was exercising himself in this kind of whistle, a large dog happened to be passing the spot; the animal, imagining that he heard the call of his master, turned suddenly about, and ran towards the cage of the parrot. At this critical moment, the bird exclaimed vehemently, "Get out, you brute!" The astonished dog hastily retreated, leaving the parrot to enjoy the joke.


 

ORDER IV.

GALLINACEA,

RESEMBLING THE DOMESTIC HEN.

THE COCK.

The domestic cock is the origin of all the varieties of the domestic fowl, and is supposed to have come originally from Asia. It was brought to America by the first settlers.

Miscellaneous Anecdotes.—A short time since, a farmer in Ohio heard loud talking and angry words among his fowls, and, being a man of pacific disposition, bent his course towards the scene of cackling and confusion. Arrived in the vicinity, he observed his favorite cock engaged in mortal combat with a striped snake, dealing his blows with bill and spurs in quick succession, and with true pugilistic skill. But the wily serpent, well aware that, in order to beat his powerful antagonist, he must use cunning, seized him by the thigh in the rear. Thus situated, the cock rose on his wings, and lighted on an apple-tree, the snake keeping fast hold, and dangling down like a taglock. It then coiled its tail round a branch of the tree. The cock tried again to escape, but, not being able to disengage himself, hung with his head down. In this melancholy situation he was found by the farmer, who instantly killed the snake, and set chanticleer at liberty.

The following is a remarkable instance of the degree to which the natural apprehension for her brood may be overcome, in the hen, by the habit of nursing ducks. A hen, who had reared three broods of ducks in three successive years, became habituated to their taking the water, and would fly to a large stone in the middle of the pond, and patiently and quietly watch her brood as they swam about it. The fourth year she hatched her own eggs, and finding that her chickens did not take to the water as the ducklings had done, she flew to the stone in the pond, and called them to her with the utmost eagerness. This recollection of the habits of her former charge, though it had taken place a year before, is strongly illustrative of memory in a hen.

"I have just witnessed," says Count de Buffon, "a curious scene. A sparrow-hawk alighted in a populous court-yard; a young cock, of this year's hatching, instantly darted at him, and threw him on his back. In this situation, the hawk, defending himself with his talons and his bill, intimidated the hens and turkeys, which screamed tumultuously around him. After having a little recovered himself, he rose and was taking wing; when the cock rushed upon him a second time, upset him, and held him down so long, that he was easily caught by a person who witnessed the conflict."

THE PHEASANT.

This splendid bird was brought originally from Asia, but it is now common in Europe, especially in the parks and preserves of England, where it lives in a wild state.

Anecdotes.—"It is not uncommon," says Warwick, "to see an old pheasant feign itself wounded, and run along the ground, fluttering and crying, before either dog or man, to draw them away from its helpless, unfledged young ones. As I was hunting with a young pointer, the dog ran on a brood of very small pheasants; the old bird cried, fluttered, and ran tumbling along just before the dog's nose, till she had drawn him to a considerable distance, when she took wing, and flew still farther off. On this the dog returned to me, near the place where the young ones were still concealed in the grass. This the old bird no sooner perceived, than she flew back again to us, settled just before the dog's nose, and, by rolling and tumbling about, drew off his attention from her young, thus preserving them a second time."

A turkey cock, a common cock, and a pheasant, were kept in the same farm-yard. After some time, the turkey was sent away to another farm. After his departure, the cock and pheasant had a quarrel; the cock beat, and the pheasant disappeared. In a few days he returned, accompanied by the turkey; the two allies together fell upon the unfortunate cock, and killed him.

THE RUFFED GROUSE.

This bird is called pheasant at the south, and partridge in the Eastern States.

The following incident in relation to it is extracted from the "Cabinet of Natural History:" "I once started a hen pheasant with a single young one, seemingly only a few days old; there might have been more, but I perceived only this one. The mother fluttered before me for a moment; but, suddenly darting towards the young one, she seized it in her bill, and flew off along the surface through the woods, with great steadiness and rapidity, till she was beyond my sight. I made a very active and close search for others, but did not find any."

THE PIGEON.

This genus includes a great variety of doves and pigeons, all of which are remarkable for their tenderness and constancy.

The Passenger Pigeon.—Audubon gives us the following description of a forest in Ohio, which was the resort of the passenger pigeon: "Every thing proved to me that the number of birds resorting to this place must be immense beyond conception. As the period of their arrival approached, a great number of persons collected, and prepared to receive them. Some were furnished with iron pots, containing brimstone; others with torches of pine-knots; many with poles, and the rest with guns. Two farmers had driven upwards of two hundred hogs more than a hundred miles, to be fattened upon the devoted pigeons! The sun was lost to our view, yet not a pigeon had arrived. Every thing was ready, and all eyes were gazing on the clear sky, when suddenly there burst forth a general cry of 'Here they come!' The noise that they made, though far distant, reminded me of a hard gale at sea through the rigging of a close-reefed vessel. As the birds arrived, and passed over me, I felt a current of air that surprised me. Thousands were soon knocked down by the pole-men. The birds continued to pour in. The fires were lighted, and a magnificent as well as terrifying sight presented itself. Pigeons, arriving in thousands, alighted every where, one over another, until solid masses as large as hogsheads were formed on the branches all around. It was a scene of uproar and confusion. I found it quite useless to speak, or even to shout, to those persons nearest to me. This uproar continued all night. Towards day the pigeons began to move off, and at sunrise, all that could fly had disappeared: the dead and the dying were then picked up and piled in heaps, while the hogs were let loose to feed on the remainder."

Musical Pigeon.—Bertoni, a famous instructor in music, while residing in Venice, took a pigeon for his companion, and, being very fond of birds, made a great pet of it. The pigeon, by being constantly in his master's company, obtained so perfect an ear for music, that no one who saw his behavior could doubt for a moment the pleasure it took in hearing his master play and sing.

Carrier Pigeon.—Some years ago, two persons arrived in London, from Antwerp, with 110 pigeons, to be thrown off there for the purpose of ascertaining whether they would find their way back, and if so, in what time they would perform the journey. The pigeons were contained in eight enclosures, constructed of wire and canvass, and capable of admitting a sufficiency of air to the birds, and at the top of each was a trap door of tin. The baskets were all placed side by side, and at a given signal, on Monday morning at eight o'clock, the doors were all lifted up, and out rushed all the pigeons at the same instant. They rose in a flock, and bent their way immediately in the direction of home. The men set off on foot shortly after, with certificates of the hour of departure. Most of the pigeons reached Antwerp the same day, the swiftest bird having arrived there in five hours and a half: the distance he flew was 186 miles!


 

ORDER V.

STILTED OR LONG-LEGGED BIRDS.

This order includes a number of remarkable birds, some of great size. Most of them live on fish; while others eat grain and insects.

THE ADJUTANT, OR MARABOO CRANE.

Of this enormous bird we have the following account: A young one, about five feet high, was taken and tamed at Sierra Leone. It was fed in the large dining-hall, and at dinner-time always took its place behind its master's chair—frequently before the guests entered. The servants were obliged to watch their provisions narrowly, and defend them from the crane by means of switches; but notwithstanding all their precaution, it would frequently snatch something or other, and once purloined a whole boiled fowl, which it swallowed in an instant. When threatened with punishment, it would open its enormous bill, and roar like a bear or tiger. It swallowed every thing whole, and on one occasion took, at one mouthful, a leg of mutton weighing five or six pounds.

THE STORK.

A traveller in Russia tells us the following curious story: He was one evening riding near a village, when he saw a number of people in a field assembled round some object. He went to the spot, and saw two storks lying dead upon the ground. One of the bystanders said that the storks had a nest in the field, and that, not long before, the hen bird, who was sitting, left the nest in search of food. During her absence, a species of hawk very common in the country, seeing the eggs unprotected, pounced upon them and sucked them. A short time after this, the male bird, who had been away for food, returned, and finding the eggs destroyed, he threw himself down upon the shells, and gave way to every demonstration of grief.

In the mean time, the female returned, and as soon as he observed her, as if to reproach her for leaving the nest, he ran up and attacked her with his beak, and, seizing her between his claws, soared up with her to a great height. He then compressed his own wings, and both falling to the ground together, were instantly killed!

The Penny Magazine gives us the following story: "On the day of the memorable battle of Friedland, a farm in the neighborhood of the city was set on fire by the falling of a bomb. The conflagration spread to an old tree in which a couple of storks had built their nest. The mother would not leave this until it was completely devoured by flames. She then flew up perpendicularly, and dashed down into the midst of the fire, as if endeavoring to rescue her precious charge from destruction. At last, enveloped in fire and smoke, she fell into the midst of the blazing embers, and perished."

THE HERON.

In Westmoreland, England, there were, some years ago, two groves adjoining a park, one of which, for many years, had been the resort of a number of herons; the other was occupied by rooks. At length, the trees tenanted by the herons, consisting of some fine old oaks, were cut down in the spring of 1775, and the young ones had perished by the fall of the timber. The parent birds immediately set about preparing new habitations to breed again; but not finding any other in the neighborhood high enough for them, they determined to effect a settlement in the rookery. The rooks made an obstinate resistance; but after a very violent contest, in which the herons finally triumphed, they built their nests and reared their young. The next season, the same contest took place; but victory declared, as before, for the herons. After this, peace was agreed upon, and they lived together in harmony in different parts of the same grove.

THE FLAMINGO.

During the French revolutionary war, when the English were expected to make a descent upon St. Domingo, a negro, having perceived, at the distance of some miles, in the direction of the sea, a long file of flamingoes, ranked up and priming their wings, forthwith magnified them into an army of English soldiers; their long necks were mistaken for shouldered muskets, and their scarlet plumage suggested the idea of a military costume. The poor fellow accordingly started off to Gonalves, running through the streets, and vociferating that the English were come! Upon this alarm, the commandant of the garrison instantly sounded the tocsin, doubled the guards, and sent out a body of men to reconnoitre the invaders; but he soon found, by means of his glass, that it was only a troop of red flamingoes, and the corps of observation marched back to the garrison, rejoicing at their bloodless expedition.


 

ORDER VI.

PALMIPEDES,

WEB-FOOTED BIRDS.

THE GULL.

Mr. Scott, of Benholm, near Montrose, many years ago caught a sea-gull, whose wings he cut, and put it into a walled garden, for the purpose of destroying slugs, of which these birds are very fond. It throve remarkably well in this situation, and remained about the place for several years. The servants were much attached to this animal, and it became so familiar that it came, at their call, to the kitchen door to be fed, and answered to the name of Willie. At length it became so domesticated, that no pains were taken to keep its wings cut; and having at last acquired their full plume, it flew away, and joined the other gulls on the beach, occasionally paying a visit to its old quarters. At the time the gulls annually leave that part of the coast, Willie also took his departure along with them, to the no small regret of the family, who were much attached to him. Next season, however, Willie again made his appearance, and visited the delighted family of Mr. Scott with his wonted familiarity. They took care to feed him well, to induce him, if possible, to become a permanent resident. But all would not do, for he annually left Benholm. This practice he regularly continued, for the extraordinary length of forty years, without intermission, and seemed to have much pleasure in this friendly intercourse. While he remained on that part of the coast, he usually paid daily visits to his friends at Benholm, answered to his name, and even fed out of their hands.

One year the gulls appeared on the coast, at their ordinary time; but Willie did not, as was usual, pay his respects immediately on reaching that neighborhood—from which they concluded that their favorite visitant was numbered with the dead, which caused them much sorrow. About ten days after, during breakfast, a servant entered the room exclaiming that Willie had returned. The overjoyed family, one and all of them, ran out to welcome Willie; an abundant supply of food was set before him, and he partook of it with his former frankness, and was as tame as a domestic fowl. In about two years afterwards, this bird disappeared forever. The above facts are confirmatory of the great age which the gull has been said to attain.

THE CORMORANT.

It is well known that this bird is taught by the Chinese to fish for them. A gentleman of Scotland some years ago obtained two young ones, which he succeeded in domesticating. They soon learned to fish on their own account, and when satisfied, would amuse themselves by quitting and retaking their prey. They sometimes remained for a whole day on board of ships when they were kindly treated, and when these sailed, they would accompany their friends to sea for a few miles. They were very familiar, but would not submit to be teased. When shot at, they always flew to the first person they saw belonging to their master's family, for protection. Their owner had their heads painted white, in order to distinguish them from the wild ones with whom they frequently associated.

THE SWAN.

At Abbotsbury, in Dorsetshire, there was formerly a noble swannery, the property of the Earl of Ilchester, where six or seven hundred were kept; but from the mansion being almost deserted by the family, this collection has of late years been much diminished.

A female swan, while in the act of sitting, observed a fox swimming towards her from the opposite shore. She instantly darted into the water, and having kept him at bay for a considerable time with her wings, at last succeeded in drowning him; after which, in the sight of several persons, she returned in triumph. This circumstance took place at Pensy, in Buckinghamshire.

THE GOOSE.

Miscellaneous Anecdotes.—"An old goose," says an English writer, "that had been for a fortnight sitting in a farmer's kitchen, was perceived on a sudden to be taken violently ill. She soon after left her nest, and repaired to an outhouse, where there was a young goose, which she brought into the kitchen. The young one immediately scrabbled into the old one's nest, sat, hatched, and afterwards brought up, the young goslings as her own. The old goose, as soon as the young one had taken her place, sat down by the side of the nest, and shortly afterwards died. As the young goose had never been in the habit of entering the kitchen before, it is supposed that she had in some way received information of the wants of the sick goose, which she accordingly administered to in the best way she could."

An English gentleman had some years ago a Canadian goose, which attached itself to a house dog. Whenever he barked, she cackled, ran at the person the dog barked at, and bit his heels. She would not go to roost at night with the other geese, but remained near the kennel, which, however, she never entered, except in rainy weather. When the dog went to the village, the goose always accompanied him, contriving to keep pace with him by the assistance of her wings; and in this way she followed him all over the parish. This extraordinary affection is supposed to have originated in the dog having rescued her from a foe in the very moment of distress.

Captain L., of New Jersey, while lying at anchor with his schooner off Poole's Island, in the Chesapeake Bay, observed a wild goose, which had been wounded, attempt to fly from the top of a hill to the water; but being unable to reach its place of destination, it alighted about midway down the hill, where some cattle were grazing; one of which, seeing the stranger, walked up, as is commonly the case, to smell it. The goose, not fancying this kind of introduction, seized the ox by the nose with so much firmness as to set the creature bellowing; and he actually ran off a considerable distance before he could disengage the goose from its hold.


 

CLASS III. REPTILIA ... REPTILES.

This is a class of animals between birds and fishes, generally crawling or swimming, of a cold temperature, sluggish habits, slow digestion, and obtuse senses. They include serpents, lizards, tortoises, frogs, toads, salamanders, the proteus and siren. The reptilia are divided into four orders, the division being founded upon the difference in the quantity of their respiration, and the diversity of their organs of motion.


 

ORDER I.

CHELONIA,

TORTOISE.

These animals are of various sizes, some living on the land, and some on the sea. They are remarkable for longevity. Mr. Murray says, "The size to which this creature occasionally attains is quite monstrous. I remember, some years ago, to have seen one, then semi-torpid, exhibited near Exeter 'Change, London, which weighed several hundred weight. Its shell was proportionably thick, and its other dimensions bore a corresponding ratio. It was stated to be about eight hundred years old."


 

ORDER II.

SAURIA,

LIZARDS.

The more formidable species of this tribe are inhabitants of the warmer countries of the globe. The larger kinds prey upon animals, the smaller upon insects.

THE CROCODILE.

This animal is found on the banks of the Nile, Niger, and Ganges.

In crossing the Ba-Woolima, Mungo Park's attendant, Isaaco, met with a strange and nearly fatal adventure. In attempting to drive six asses across the river, just as he had reached the middle, a crocodile rose close to him, and instantly seizing him by the left thigh, pulled him under water. With wonderful presence of mind, he felt the head of the animal, and thrust his finger into its eye. This forced it to quit its hold: it soon, however, returned to the charge, and, seizing him by the other thigh, again pulled him under water. Isaaco had recourse to the same expedient, and thrust his fingers a second time into its eyes with such force, that it again quitted him, rose to the surface, floundered about as if stupid, and then swam down the stream. Isaaco, in the mean time, reached the bank of the river, bleeding very much—the wound in his left thigh being four inches long, that on the right somewhat less, but very deep, besides several single teeth-marks on his back. In six days, however, he recovered so as to be able to travel.

At Chantilly, in France, there was, in the year 1828, a crocodile so perfectly tame and well-disposed, that he was caressed with impunity by the keeper, who endeavored, although not always with success, to induce visitors to follow his example. He never attempted to bite any one, but seemed pleased by being fondled.

THE ALLIGATOR.

This creature is similar in habits and appearance to the crocodile. It is found only in America, and is most abundant in the tropical regions. The anecdotes which display its ferocity are numerous; but we choose one which exhibits it in a different character. Mr. Jesse had one which he made so perfectly tame, that it followed him about the house like a dog, scrambling up the stairs after him, and showing much affection and docility. Its great favorite, however, was a cat; and the friendship was mutual. When the cat was reposing herself before the fire, the alligator would lay himself down, place his head upon the cat, and in this attitude go to sleep. If the cat was absent, the alligator was restless; but he always appeared happy when puss was near him. The only instance in which he showed any ferocity was in attacking a fox, which was tied up in the yard. Probably, however, the fox had resented some playful advances which the other had made, and thus called forth the anger of the alligator. In attacking the fox, he did not make use of his mouth, but beat him with so much severity with his tail, that, had not the chain which confined the fox broken, he would probably have killed him. The alligator was fed on raw flesh, and sometimes with milk, for which he showed great fondness. In cold weather, he was shut up in a box, with wool in it; but having been forgotten one frosty night, he was found dead in the morning.

THE SALAMANDER.

Recently, as David Virtue, a mason in Scotland, was dressing a heavy barley millstone from a large block, after cutting away a part, he found a lizard of this species imbedded in the stone. It was about an inch and a quarter long, of a brownish-yellow color, and had a round head, with bright, sparkling, projecting eyes. When first found, it was apparently dead; but after being about five minutes exposed to the air, it showed signs of life. It soon became lively, and ran about with much celerity; and about half an hour after the discovery, was brushed off the stone, and killed. When found, it was coiled up in a round cavity of its own form, being an exact impression of the animal. There were about fourteen feet of earth above the rock, and the block in which the lizard was found was seven or eight feet in the rock; so that the whole depth of the animal from the surface was twenty-one or twenty-two feet. The stone had no fissure, was quite hard, and one of the best which is got from the quarry of Cullaloe; the stone is reckoned one of the hardest in Scotland.