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THE POWER OF KINDNESS.

THE following anecdote was narrated at a meeting lately held in behalf of education

A certain British school was remarkable for the rough and savage disposition of the boys who composed it. In consequence, it had obtained the unenviable designation of The Bull-dog School.' The teacher, under whose training this state of things existed, and who seemed quite unable to remedy it, was accordingly dismissed. His successor, aware of these circumstances, and earnestly desiring the welfare of his charge, began by inquiring what mode or principle of action would be most likely to secure it. After much thought, he concluded that kindness was the key to the boys' hearts, and observantly waited for some favourable opportunity to test its worth. Such an occasion soon occurred. One of the boys became dangerously ill. The teacher called upon him. This act was altogether without precedent; a report was soon circulated, and a good impression was suddenly made. When the school met, the teacher informed the boys about their comrade, and inquired if two would agree to call every day, and ascertain the state of his health. The idea was novel. Like new things, it was cheerfully received, and the boys regularly acted upon it. Their school-fellow had been ordered to have some nice things. His parents were very poor, and had not the means for complying with this order. The teacher became awaro of the fact. He then, after telling the circumstance to his scholars, asked if they could not all help in this matter. One and another immediately cried out

'I will give a penny,' 'I will give a farthing,' and so on, according to their little re

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'Certainly. I only waited for you to ask me.' was the reply.

All countenances were bright with joy. The wants of their sick school-fellow were met; his health was in due time restored.

But the influence of this act of kindness did not cease with its occasion. The boys had felt the luxury of doing good. The school from that time became quite reformed; a proof how correctly they judge and act who not only train the intellect, but also the hearts of the young. No principle is so powerful for good in the education of mind, as that of intelligent kindnessthe love, which, while it does not overlook wrong-doing, shows that it is not quenched by it-and that furnishes a constant and powerful impulse to goodness.

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SCHOOL CHARACTER.

EVERY school-boy has a character. Let us go among the group of them, and all doubts will vanish. There is selfish Harry, lying Tom, slovenly Peter, gluttonous Jem, sly Charley, cowardly Dick, and fighting Jack; as well as generous George, truthful Joseph, and honest Bob. Ask for evidence that these descriptions are truly applied, and we shall find the same rules of judging are adopted here that are adopted among grown men. There is a commanding public sentiment in every play-ground, and the same right principles that secure for a grown man, and a great man, the respect and confidence of his fellow citizens, will-other things being equal-secure for a boy the love and confidence of other boys. A long face may be put on-a fawning or hypocritical boy may play a game with an easy and credulous teacher, and for a while retain a false place in his estimation. But the veil is

too thin. The true character comes out broadly in the playground or on the ice, and the boy that deserves to be loved is loved. As it is among schoolboys, so it is all the world over. An honest and virtuous man may sometimes be unjustly suspected, and the breath of the slanderer may tarnish for a moment an innocent reputation, but the right side comes up sooner or later, and truth triumphs.

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THE SQUIRREL.

On one occasion, the children of a farmer took a young squirrel from its nest, and, as it was too young to feed itself, they employed an old cat with one kitten as the squirrel's nurse, For about a week this arrangement answered very well, at the end of which time a gentleman bought the squirrel, and transferred him to the care of another cat. With this new friend and her kittens, the little animal lived for a week on very friendly terms. Being removed from the cat, however, he betook himself to a neighbouring tree, where he spent several days at liberty before being brought back to his old home. On returning to the kittens, he seemed quite rejoiced at meeting his old playmates again; they, too, showed great pleasure at seeing him, and the squirrel and two kittens tumbled about and played together with all possible affection. When the old cat made her appearance, he ran up to her in delight, and, sitting upon his hind legs, licked her mouth, while she affectionately licked him all over. He was shown to them once or twice after this, and behaved in the same manner. Pat when they saw him, about a fortnight or three weeks after the first separation, though he was friendly enough, the kittens, who were lying in the sun with their mother, flew at him, and attempted to kill him. But it is very remarkable that all this time the old cat seemed to recognise the squirrel as her child, and remained very quiet, without making the least attempt to hurt him.

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BULFINCHES.

PICTORIAL PAGES.

THESE interesting little birds are found in several countries in Europe, Asia, and America. They are common in most parts of Northern Europe, and are found in the South of France and Italy. They are plentiful in England, and familiar to most of our bird-fanciers. The bulfinch is shortly and thickly made, its head is round, and neck and bill short. All the known species are subject to a double moult. Its native song is very soft and simple, and warbled in almost an inaudible tone. It has however acquired great celebrity from the facility with which it learns to whistle musical airs; and from its most extraordinary memory, when it is once educated. Those which are taught the best are taken from the nest when the feathers of the tail begin to grow, and must be fed on rape-seed soaked in water and mixed with white bread. Eggs would kill them or make them blind. Nine months of regular and continual instruction are sometimes necessary before the bird acquires what amateurs call firmness. And if the education be not regularly attended to, discordant notes are introduced into the airs it is taught to whistle. In general it is well to se

parate them

masters are said to die of grief (Penny Cyclop remember an injury. One of them being throw by a shabbily dressed person, ever afterwards w similarly dressed got much agitated. At last it fel and died in one of those fits eight months after A bulfinch belonging to a lady was subject to when it would fall from its perch; but no soone affectionate voice of its mistress than, notwithst ness, it became tranquil, and mounted its percl Buffon's story of the return of the escaped bulf by Bechstein, a naturalist who paid great attent says, that among other feats, it may be accustom turn, provided the house is not too near a wood.

We may here mention that several hundreds are annually sent to Berlin and other capitals, birdsellers, and form a small article of comm varying from one to several pounds sterling a to the merits of the bird.

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from

any

other birds

during this

time, because owing to their quickness in hearing, they sometimes mix

up passages from the songs of other birds, and so spoil the airs. They must be helped to continue the song when they stop, and the lesson must always be repeated when they are moult ing, or they will be

come mere

chatterers, which would be

vexatio us,

BULFINCHES.

after having expended a great deal of labour in teaching them. They are so sure in their imitation, that if the instrument from which they learn be out of tune, they as readily pipe the true as the false notes of the composition. They adhere so stedfastly to the same precise notes in the same passages, that a composition may be performed for two bulfinches, in two parts, so as to constitute one harmony, though either of the birds may stop or begin when it pleases. As it may be expected there are different degrees of capacity for learning among bulfinches as well as in other animals. One young bulfinch learns with ease and rapidity, another with difficulty and slowness. The birds which learn with most difficulty rarely ever forget their lessons even when moulting.

To these attractive qualities of the bulfinch may be added its obedience, and its capability of strong attachment, which it shows by a variety of little endearing actions. Buffon asserts that tame bulfinches have been known to escape from the aviary, and live at liberty in the woods for a whole year, and then to recollect the beloved voice of the person who had reared them, and return never more to leave her. Others, when forced to leave their

earthly in her temper, unearthly in her desi tions. The spell which bound her affections to broken, and she mounts on the silent wings of h the habitation of God; where it is her delight nion with the spirits that have been ransomed fr of earth, and wreathed with a garland of glory.

Her beauty may throw its magical charn princes and conquerors may bow with admirati of her riches; the sons of science, and poetry, n memory in history and in song; yet Piety must and her glory.

With such a treasure, every lofty gratificatio be purchased; friendship will be doubly sweet; shall lose their sting, and the character will posse rubies; life will be but a pleasant visit to earth entrance upon a joyful and perpetual home. Sucl a tender flower, planted in the fertile soil of a v grows, expanding its foliage, and imparting its around, till, transplanted, it is set to bloom in ] and beauty in the Paradise of God.

THE STORY OF LITTLE MARIA,

CHAPTER SECOND.-THE GATE OF PEARL.

UR first chap

ter was оссиpied almost entirely with an account of Maria's childhood, and with some remarks upon the good qualities of her pony Robin. My young readers will probably recall to mind, that we had proceeded as far as where Maria was seen lying helpless on the sod, and the pony at a little distance, browsing quietly by the roadside. I shall not attempt to describe to them how I felt at beholding this spectacle, nor indeed was I able clearly to understand my own feelings, so hastily did I rush forward, hoping that by prompt measures I might bring to the little sufferer some suitable relief. Now, however, when I look back to that trying moment, I am sure that I feel grateful to a kind Father in heaven for supplying me with composure and strength. Some persons I have known who, upon seeing a fellow-creature in great peril are deprived at the instant of all power. This is not because they have no feeling, nor because they are too ignorant to assist, but merely because their minds fail them, and they lose what is called their self-possession, just at the moment of greatest need.

This results, in many instances, from never being accustomed to summon their energies in early youth, and so they grow up without, as it were, a proper understanding between their bodies and minds. In their later years they would give any price for the ability to control their faculties at those times when danger is threatening either themselves or others. But they are then rarely able to attain this desirable advantage, and consequently they are compelled to stand by and witness the sufferings of those whom they dearly love, but find themselves quite unable to give assistance. I mention this so particularly because it is a very important matter. God has placed us in this world with faculties, which he has directed us to employ for the good not merely of ourselves, but also of our fellow creatures, and he requires us to keep these faculties ready for use. For example: let us suppose that a party of boys and girls are standing around a fire. By accident the dress of a little girl is brought too close to the blaze, and in a moment her form is wrapped in flames. Nearly all the children become almost frantic with terror. Some run from the room; some cry at the top of their voices; while one little fellow tears up the floor-cloth, and with it, in less than a minute, extinguishes the flames. This boy was taught by his father to practise self-possession, and now he enjoys the satisfaction of having saved the poor child's life, Another time, a similar party have gone to a short distance from the village, and are playing by the brook. Some are hunting for jack-stones among the pebbles. Others are as busy sailing little ships. Suddenly a chubby boy of six years old ventures too near, and though the water is quite shallow, the child is in danger of being drowned. At once there is a great shout. So loudly do they scream, that one might almost imagine that screaming was the best

way to help the boy. But, providentially, there is one little girl who does not scream, In a moment she steps carefully to the water's edge, and by holding on to the bushes is able to reach and to place in safety the frightened lad. This girl is another instance of self-possession. I am sure that my young friends will agree with me in thinking that it is very desirable to be always self-possessed. In the case of little Maria, I was enabled to afford her by this means very important aid. First, I felt her temples and cheek, and was rejoiced to find that she was probably only stunned by her fall; and having discovered this, gently raised her head a little from the ground, and with my hand dashed into her face a plentiful supply of cold spring water. To my unspeakable delight, the little girl revived. I put my finger to my lips and shook my head, to indicate that she must not attempt to speak; and immediately began to contrive some method of conveying her to her home. To carry her in my arms, which was the plan that first occurred to me, was, from the distance, almost impossible; and as no house was in sight, I was not a little perplexed, Finally, I concluded that our best plan would be to place the little girl upon the pony, and holding her on, endeavour gently to guide the animal on his way home. This method was indeed not without its difficulties; but judg. ing it the safest, I was about putting it into execution, when the waggon of a neighbour. ing farmer, who was returning from market, came in sight. Holding the little girl in my arms, I patiently waited the good farmer's approach, and in a few minutes had the satisfaction of seeing him at my side. He stopped his horse within a few yards of the place where I was tending my helpless charge, and looking attentively at the scene, gave utterance to the following exclamations: 'Well, now, I do declare, if that ain't a pretty business! Do tell me if the little critter throwed her! I wonder what that 'ere young animal will do next!' and other similar remarks. I simply replied that I was anxious to convey the child to her father's house, and had not as yet learned the cause of the accident; when the farmer kindly offered the use of his wagon, and spreading some hay upon the bottom boards, assisted me to place Maria in a comfortable position. In this way we slowly proceeded in the direction of the cottage, the farmer walking beside his horse, while the pony was tied in such a manner as to follow on behind. As we passed along, I could not avoid contrasting our appearance with the gay setting forth of the child at an earlier period of the day; and such, I thought to myself, is the case with a vast multitude of short-sighted human creatures. One hour they set out upon life's journey, full of bright hopes and eager expectations, and a few hours afterward are seen defeated and hopeless, ready almost to lie down and die. With such thoughts passing through my mind, I endeavoured to feel grateful to that Being, by whose care the accident to my young friend was prevented from taking away her life; while I could not avoid dreading to meet the anxious faces of her parents in the first moment of their alarm. However, I resolved to bear up under every difficulty, and to endure with patience any trial that might be encountered in the performance of this Christian act.

Meanwhile, I sustained in my arms the form of the suffering child, and was happy to observe that the only symptoms were those of weakness, and that there was every reason to hope that in a short time she would be entirely recovered from her hurt. On arriving

at the cottage, every thing seemed thrown into confusion. The servants surrounded the wagon, making inquiries of the farmer and of myself so rapidly, that it was impossible to offer any intelligible reply. Mr. Elwood, however, appeared more calm. He remarked to his wife, after he had examined the child's injuries, that there seemed to be no serious wound, and immediately assisted in carrying his daughter into the house. Upon our entrance, the kind mother, in a subdued and tender tone of voice, requested us to convey our little burden into her own room, which, as I observed, communicated with that occupied by her parents, and was furnished with all that could make it a comfortable resting-place for a well-loved child.

As soon as this duty was performed, Mr. Elwood conducted me to the parlour, and urgently insisted upon my remaining his guest as long as my convenience would admit: adding, as a further inducement, that I would thus be enabled to watch the daily recovery of my young friend. Won by the sincerity of my entertainer, and glad of an opportunity to learn from those most interested respecting the return of health to my little acquaintance, I cheerfully consented to remain. Shortly after our conversation, the doctor made his appearance, and nodding quite mysteriously to the friends who were brought together upon the news of the accident, he slowly proceeded to Maria's room. I afterwards learned that his opinion of the case was very nearly the same as that formed by her father and myself. He remarked that upon such occurrences the blood was thrown into a state of great excitement, and that in order to restore the patient to health, it was very necessary that she should be kept in perfect quiet, and be allowed for two or three days to enjoy undisturbed repose. With these remarks the good doctor withdrew. The case, however, was not as easily disposed of as he had hoped. The child's nervous system was very much shaken, and to the great alarm of her parents she lay in a burning fever for several days. At times, too, there were symptoms so alarming as to excite the strongest fears. Then there were moments at which the little girl's mind seemed to wander; and she would talk wildly of her ride upon the pony, of her favourite school-mates, of flowers and birds; and most frequently of all, would run on, for some minutes together, repeating passages from the Bible, and from the Pilgrim's Progress, which she had committed to memory when in health.

One thought, almost constantly before her, was, of her entrance into a fine city, whose streets were of pure gold, and whose gates were pearl. She, besides, frequently repeated these verses:

Twill be lovely there to meet,
And tread with joy the golden street;
By the wall my Jesus waits,

To beckon me in at the pearly gates.
When in doubt I fearful stand,
He will kindly take my hand,
And above my head will hold
A splendid, shining crown of gold.
Then before my Saviour's seat,
I will bow and kiss his feet;
On the floor I will fall down,
And offer him my shining crown,
A faithful Saviour he will be
Throughout all eternity.

Upon coming from my room on the third day of my painful visit, I was rejoiced at hearing that Maria was much better, and that it was the doctor's opinion that in the course of a week she would be quite restored. This intelligence induced me to hasten my departure, and on the next day I took leave of the family, promising to return after a short in

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terval; at which time Mr. Elwood assured me that his daughter would be fully restored, and would herself give me an account of the accident, and also express her thanks for my seasonable assistance.

(To be continued.)

A RETURNED SAILOR AND A
LANDLORD.

WHEN the late Rev. C. Buck was once preaching in Silver Street Chapel, a sailor passing along, seeing an entrance which seemed to lead to a place of worship, thought within himself, 'I am shortly going to sea, and shall perhaps never have another opportunity, I'll go in.' During the service he was so deeply impressed that he determined to enquire the name of the preacher, which he never forgot. He went to sea, and all his impressions apparently wore away. He afterwards returned home and fell ill, and was visited by some pious gentlemen, who found him very ignorant. He acknowledged his neglect of divine things, but said there was a religion that he liked, and that was what he once heard a Mr. Buck preach at Silver Street Chapel. They continued their visits and at length witnessed his happy death. One of his last expressions was, now take my cable and fix it on my anchor Jesus, and go through the storm.' But what makes this circumstance more interesting was, that the landlord of the house where this sailor was stopping, was himself brought to a state of repentance by listening at the door to hear what was going on between him and his pious visitors.

PRAYER RECONCILED TO GOD'S WILL.

זי

'How does your ladyship,' said the famous Lord Bolingbroke to Lady Huntingdon, 'reconcile prayer to God for particular blessings with absolute resignation to the Divine will!

'Very easily,' answered she, 'just as if I was to offer a petition to a monarch, of whose kindness and wisdom I have the highest opinion. In such a case, my language would be, I wish you to bestow on me such a favour; but you know better than I how far it would be agreeable to you, or right in itself to grant my desire; I therefore content myself with humbly presenting my petition, and leave the rest in your hands.'

DR. FRANKLIN'S CODE OF MORALS.

THE following list of Morals was drawn up by Dr. Franklin for the regulation of his life

Temperance-Eat not to fulness; drink not to elevation.

Silence-Speak not but what may benefit others or yourself; avoid trifling con

versation.

Order-Let all your things have their place;

let each of your duties have its time. Resolution-Resolve to perform what you ought; perform without fail what you resolve. Frugality-Make no expense but to do good

to others or yourself—that is, waste nothing.

Industry-Lose no time: be always em

ployed in something useful, keep out all unnecessary action. Sincerity-Use no hurtful deceit, think in

PICTORIAL PAGES.

nocently and justly, and if you speak, speak accordingly. Justice-Wrong none by doing injury or omitting benefits that are your duty. Moderation-Avoid extremes, forbear resenting injury.

Cleanliness-Suffer no uncleanliness in the body, clothes, or habitation. Tranquillity-Be not disturbed about trifles or at accidents common or unavoidable. Humility-Imitate Jesus Christ.

ANECDOTE OF A DEAF AND
DUMB BOY.

A LITTLE dumb boy signified to his teacher, who was trying to instruct him about the death of the Saviour, that he wished her to explain how the death of one could secure She the redemption and life of so many. thought of the following happy illustration. She took off a gold ring and put it on one side, and a heap of dead flowers on the other. The little mute seized the meaning at once, and in a kind of ecstasy of delight and gratitude exclaimed, by signs, One! One! Good, Good One!' Thus showing that he understood that the death of that GooD ONE was so precious in God's sight as to stand instead of the penalty of death which was due and ought otherwise to have been paid by all mankind, who were represented by the worthless and dead flowers.

ANECDOTE OF AN OYSTER.

SOME time ago the family of Mr. Stevenson, a fishmonger of Colchester, were alarmed by a great noise in the shop, and suspecting that some persons had broken in, one of them went to the place, when, to his surprise, he found the disturber of his repose, not a two-footed, but a four-footed thief, namely a rat, who on trying to help himself to an oyster lying on the shop-board, had his intruding paw so firmly grasped in the shell of the oyster, as to render his escape impossible.

THE TIGER.

THIS very savage and very strong animal, is a native of Asia. Hindostan may be considered the head-quarters of the destructive animal. 'It inhabits,' says Pennant, Mount Ararat and Hyrcania, of old famous for its wild beasts; but the greatest numbers, the largest and most cruel, are met with in India and its islands. In Sumatra the natives are so infatuated, that they seldom kill them, having a notion that they are animated by the souls of their ancestors. They are the scourge of the country; they lurk among the bushes on the sides of the rivers, and almost depopulate many places. They are insidious, bloodthirsty, and malevolent, and seem to prefer preying on the human race.

The tiger, though closely allied to the lion in size and power, in external form and internal structure, in prowling habits and savage nature, is very different from it in the peculiar markings of its coat. He is elegantly striped by a series of black bands or bars, which occupy the sides of his head, neck, and body. He is much more ferocious than the lion, as he kills whether he is hungry or not,

31

whereas the lion never hunts his prey unless pressed by hunger.

LOVE OF THE TIGER FOR HUMAN FLESH.

It was my lot, says the author of the Wild Sports in India, to be stationed several years in a remote part of our Indian possessions adjoining the Mysore frontier, and in the immediate vicinity of the great chain of Western Ghauts. In the pathless thickets of their eternal forests, untrodden by the foot of man, the tigress reared her young and wandered with her savage partner into the smaller jungles of the plain, proving a scourge that drove every feeling of security from the humble dwellings of the wretched inhabitants. In such a country, inhabited by the poorest classes, living in small villages surrounded by jungles, and forced to seek their subsistence among the tigers' haunts, numerous casualties of course occurred, and I had frequent opportunity of studying the habits and witnessing the ravages of the formidable animal. Some idea may be formed of the havoc committed by tigers, when I mention, from returns made to government, that in that district, three hundred men, and three thousand head of cattle, were destroyed during three years.

Whilst confined in the forest, the tiger is comparatively harmless. There feeding on deer he rarely encounters man, and when the solitary hunter does meet the grim tyrant of the woods, instinctive fear of the human race makes the striped monster avoid him. But in the open country he becomes dangerous. Pressed by hunger, he seeks his prey in the neighbourhood of villages, and carries off cattle before the herdsman's eyes. Still he rarely ventures to attack man, unless provoked or urged to desperation. But under whatever circumstances human blood is once tasted, the spell of fear is for ever broken, the tiger's nature is changed; he deserts the jungle, and haunts the very door of his victim; cattle pass unheeded, but their driver is carried off; and from that time the tiger becomes a man-eater.

EFFECT OF FEAR ON A TIGER.

During the dreadful storm and inundation in Bengal, in May, 1833, the estates of a Mr. Campbell, situated on the Island of Sangar, at the entrance of the river Hoogly, suffered so greatly, that out of three thousand people living on the ground, only six or seven hundred escaped, and these principally by clinging to the roof and ceiling of the house. When the house was in this closely crammed state, with scarcely room for another individual, what should come squeezing and pushing its way into the interior of the house but an immensely large tiger with his tail hanging down, and exhibiting every other symptom of excessive fear. Having reached the room in which Mr. Campbell was sitting, he nestled himself into one of the corners, and lay down like a large Newfoundland dog. Mr. Camp bell loaded his gun in a very quiet manner, and at once put an end to the life of the animal and the alarm which he created.

THE OSTRICH.

N Ostrich is the tallest, if not
the largest bird in the world,
standing from seven to nine feet
high to the top of its head, and
four feet to the top of the back.
It is particularly valued for its
plumage, which is generally black
and white. The feathers of the
wings and tail are the most valu-
able, and are very peculiar in
their character, having the web
an equal width on each side of
the shaft, which is unlike all
other birds. All the feathers of
the ostrich, too, are remarkably
soft and downy, and it is quite
without those hard feathers com-
mon to the generality of birds.
Its wings are small in com-
parison to its whole bulk,
and are of no service in fly-
ing, but act like sails or
oars, and greatly aid its
motions in running, ena-
bling it to outstrip the
fleetest greyhound. Its
neck is long and slender,

the lower part covered with downy feathers, and the
upper, with the head, with fine shining hair. Its

thighs are bare, and its legs and feet covered with scales. The latter are singularly fitted for treading firmly and running far without injury. They are each furnished with two large toes, the longest being seven inches in length, and well shod with a horny substance.

The sandy and burning deserts of Africa, and Asia, are the only native residences of these animals, there they are seen in flocks so large as sometimes to have been mistaken for distant cavalry.

The ostrich leads a harmless sort of life, and forms flocks. It lives generally on vegetables, but devours everything that comes in its way. Leather, glass, hair, stones, metals, all are devoured most greedily by it. In its native wilds the ostrich is a noble bird, and seems to enjoy its own beauties, and shows them off to itself and companions with great glee. When I was abroad,' says Dr. Shaw,

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'I had several opportunities of amusing myself with the actions and behaviour of the ostrich. It was very diverting to observe with what dexterity it would play and frisk about on all occasions. In the heat of the day, particularly, it would strut along the sunny side of the house with great majesty. It would be perpetually fanning and priding itself with its quivering expanded wings, and seem at every turn to admire and be in love

with its own sha

dow.'

The nest of the ostrich is merely a hole in the sand, which by its heat, will preserve the vital warmth in the eggs, so that the dam may safely leave them for two or three hours when in quest of food or pursued by the hunter.

The great value of its feathers makes the ostrich an object of constant pursuit. The hunter mounts a swift-footed horse and gives it chase, but so great is the speed with which the ostrich can run, that he would never overtake it, nor be able to reach it with his javelin, but for the disposition it has to take a winding or crooked course, running first on one side and then on the other, which gives him the chance of crossing its path or getting within shooting distance.

Ostriches are tamed with very little trouble; and in their domestic state few animals may be rendered more useful; for besides their valuable feathers, which they cast, and the eggs

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which they lay, their skins are used by the Arabians as a sub

stitute for leather; and they

are even some

times made to the pur

serve

pose of horses.

THE GRAVE. THE boast of heraldry,the pomp

of power, And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave

Alike await th inevitable hour;

The paths of glory lead but to

the grave.

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