apartments, and suspending it by the neck to the bough of the date-tree or acacia. Here is a representation of the nest:

Doubtless Pug's visage has often wriggled and twisted with ill-suppressed rage, and his swarthy countenance grown darker, as the retracted lips disclosed the ivory behind, when from some neighboring bough, eying this bottle with the opening at the bottom, he was forced to acknowledge, for once, his cunning outdone. But we need not travel to Hindostan for basket-makers; in the thicket of Alder bushes by the creek, among the reeds and rushes of the swamp, or in the long grass of the meadow, are the Starling, the Bullfinch and the Thrush, all of a trade.

Here is the work of a skilful weaver, the Baltimore Starling.

It is flax and wool woven into cloth; linsey-woolsey for all the world! Improved too, for it is sewed through and through with horse hair. I presume some careful woman in the neighborhood, has wondered what became of a skain or two of thread that was mysteriously missing from a number which she spread upon the grass to bleach. Doubtless the starling would tell her, if it could, that linen ready spun was very acceptable, and made excellent warp.

But the masons, a useful, hard-working class, must not be slighted. Among them, the Martin may be considered as master-builder, if we except that old millwright, the beaver. The martin is not only mason, but brick-maker. In the month of May, he arrives among us, from the fragrant groves of the sunny south. At break of day, while the folded leaves are yet wet with the dews of night, you may see him in the

newly-turned furrow, or by the brook, in quest of materials for a dwelling. Nothing comes amiss; particles of moist earth, slender twigs, bits of straws, locks of wool, are treasures to him; yes, more favored than the oppressed Israelites in Egypt, the materials are not denied him. These he skilfully works and tempers into a mortar of great tenacity, and having selected a spot for his nest, beneath the sheltering eaves of some dwelling, whose inmates are not hostile to his little plans, (I am sorry to say, that the dwelling is not unfrequently a barn,) he lays the foundation. No sound of trowel or hammer,

"Like a tall pine, the noiseless fabric grows;"

each rising sun shines upon the advancing work. Sometimes indeed, it falls before it hardens; and, (shall I say it?) sometimes a wanton boy rudely demolishes the little fabric with sticks and stones, but it is a labor of love, and we have hardly time to lament the martin's lot, ere the breach is repaired.

Indeed it would almost seem that sparks of that reason, which renders man the lord of this lower world, had been given to some of the inferior animals. Plans of action are theirs, which if laid by man, would have passed unquestioned, for the productions of reason; a skill in architecture and an adaptation to circumstances, which our own British fathers had scarcely attained, or at least had never exhibited, previous to the Norman conquest; a real magnanimity, which, if displayed by a fellow man, would have awakened in our bosoms a respect for him. All these have been termed instinct, a word which is too often synonymous with mystery; and to this indefinable something, the actions of every animal, biped, quadruped and centiped, provided it was not a man, have been attributed; to this something, holding that inconceivable po

sition, just superior to the laws of matter, just below the sphere of intelligence; how correct such opinions may be, I leave with you, reader, to decide. Perhaps this book may fall into the hands of a metaphysician; one who loves to live in a mist of his own gathering; who puzzles himself sadly with terms. I can easily conceive how he might lose himself in an abstraction upon mind and thought, and ideas, as I have spoken of them; and how, as a partial compensation for such a loss, he might discover some shocking absurdity in these, my views; if so, I wish him much joy in his Columbus-like enterprise; but to me, the acquisition of one truth is of infi nitely greater value than all this; with the farmer, a little wheat amply rewards me for passing a dozen bushels through the mill; one caution the thresher always gives; it applies equally well here, and so I repeat it; "take care; don't turn too fast!"

It is related of the celebrated Exeter 'Change elephant, that one day, while feeding upon some potatoes, one of them chanced to roll away out of his reach. After making several ineffectual attempts to recover it with his long, flexible trunk, suddenly changing his manner of operation, as if he understood the law of action and reaction, he blew it violently against the opposite wall, whence rebounding, the potato speedily shared the fate of it less roving companions. We do not suppose that this noble animal understood the philosophy of the schools, but he acted philosophically,brute as he was. He evinced the possession of capabilities which fitted him, not merely for a life in his native jungles, but which could even adapt him to the peculiar circumstances of a life and a prison in London.

Dr. Darwin, an eminent, but in some instances, a fanciful naturalist, tells us, that in a ramble, he saw a wasp tugging at

a fly quite as large as itself, and after many struggles to bear it off, relaxed its hold, and proceeded with Turkish dexterity, to relieve the ponderous captive of its head. This being done, it succeeded in rising with the prize, only to experience a fresh difficulty; the broad wings of the fly greatly impeded the flight of the wasp, and it again alighted to renew its surgical operations. First, it sawed off one wing, then the other, and once more seizing its victim, disappeared.

There is a park in England, which in the time of Cromwell was called Hare Park, but from the fine thorn trees in it, is now called Bushy Park. It is said that the old bucks which are kept in this enclosure, rear themselves upon their hinder legs, and entangling their horns in the low and spreading branches, shake off the coveted fruit, and then eat it at their leisure. It is a fact, well known to the apiarist, that bees, before sending out a colony, dispatch scouts or agents to select a suitable spot for a settlement, and shape their course according to the report of their little spies. What emigrant ever acted wiser? The dog, too, has been the hackneyed theme of eulogy, but by no means an unworthy one. Who does not remember instances of a sagacity almost incredible, of death-enduring affection and gratitude? Who ever saw a dog travel round the road that makes right angles, when in haste, and not rather leap the fence, and plunge into the thicket or the stream to take the hypotenuse of the triangle, thus practically demonstrating a proposition in Euclid. There is one fact on record, which is too good in itself, and too much to my purpose to be repressed in this connection. A dog that had lost his master, at length traced him to the junction of three roads. After traveling a short distance upon one of them, his keen scent testified that his master had not passed that way, so returning to the common point, he set off upon the G