Why dost thou haunt the sultry street,

When the paths of the forest are cool and sweet?
How canst thou bear

This noise of people - this sultry air?

Thou alone, of the feathered race,
Dost look unscared on the human face;
Thou alone, with a wing to flee,

Dost love with man in his haunts to be;
And the "gentle dove "

Has become a name of truth and love.

Come then ever, when daylight leaves
The page I read, to my humble eaves,
And wash thy breast in the hollow spout,
And murmur thy low, sweet music out.
I hear and see

Lessons of wisdom, sweet bird, in thee.

XXII. THE MONKEY AND CROW.

IN the jungles about the neighborhood of Tillicherry, in India, there is a large species of monkey, frequently tamed by the natives; and at a village a short distance from this celebrated seaport we had an evidence of the remarkable sagacity of this animal. A few yards from the house of the person to whom it belonged, a thick pole, at least thirty feet high, had been fixed into the earth, round which was an iron ring; and to this was attached a strong chain of considerable length, fastened to a collar round the monkey's neck. The ring being loose, it easily slid up and down the pole, when he ascended or descended.

The monkey was in the habit of taking his station on the top of the bamboo, where he seemed to be watching with de

light the varied prospect around him. The crows, which in India are very abundant and singularly audacious, taking advantage of his elevated position, had been in the daily habit of robbing him of his food, which was placed every morning and evening at the foot of the pole.

To this he had vainly expressed his dislike by chattering and other expressions of his displeasure equally vain nothing that he could do was of any avail to scare away these unwelcome intruders upon his repasts. He tried various modes to banish them, but they continued to steal more or less of his allowance every day. Finding that he was perfectly unheeded, he formed a plan of retribution as effectual as it was ingenious.

One morning, when his tormentors had been particularly troublesome, he appeared as if seriously ill; he closed his eyes, drooped his head, and acted as if he were in much pain. No sooner were his ordinary rations placed at the foot of the bamboo, than the crows, watching their opportunity, descended in great numbers, and according to their usual practice, began to demolish his provisions.

The monkey now began to slide down the pole by slow degrees, as if the effort were painful to him, and as if so overcome by illness that his remaining strength was scarcely equal to the exertion. When he reached the ground, he rolled about for some time, seeming to be in great pain, until he found himself close by the vessel employed to contain his food, which the crows had by this time well nigh devoured.

There was still, however, some remaining, which a solitary bird, emboldened by the apparent sickness of the monkey, advanced to seize. The wily creature was at this time lying in a state of apparent insensibility at the foot of the pole, and close by the pan. The moment the crow stretched out its head, and before it could secure a mouthful of the forbidden food, the watchful avenger seized the thief by the neck with the rapidity of thought, and secured it from doing further mischief.

He now began to grin and chatter with every expression of

triumph, while the crows flew around, cawing most noisily, as if begging mercy for their captive companion. The monkey continued a while to grin and chatter in mockery of their distress; he then deliberately placed the captive crow between his knees, and began to pluck it with the most humorous gravity. When he had completely stripped it, except the large feathers in the wings and tail, he flung it into the air as high as his strength would permit ; and the crow, after flapping its wings for a few seconds, fell on the ground with a stunning shock.

The other crows, which had been so fortunate as to escape a similar fate, now surrounded it, and immediately pecked it to death. The expression of joy on the monkey's countenance was altogether indescribable; and he had no sooner seen this fate inflicted upon the purloiner of his repast, than he ascended the bamboo to enjoy a quiet repose. The next time his food was brought, not a single crow approached it; and I dare say that he was never again troubled by those voracious intruders.

XXIII.-THE MOCKING BIRD.

J. R. DRAKE.

EARLY on a pleasant day
In the poet's month of May,
Field and forest looked so fair,
So refreshing was the air,

That, in spite of morning dew,

Forth I walked where tangling grew

Many a thorn and breezy bush;

When the redbreast and the thrush

Gayly raised their early lay,
Thankful for returning day.

Every thicket, bush, and tree
Swelled the grateful harmony;

As it mildly swept along,

Echo seemed to catch the song;

But the plain was wide and clear;
Echo never whispered near.
From a neighboring mocking bird
Came the answering notes I heard.

Soft and low the song began:
I scarcely caught it as it ran
Through the melancholy trill
Of the plaintive whippoorwill,
Through the ringdove's gentle wail,
Chattering jay and whistling quail,
Sparrow's twitter, catbird's cry,
Red bird's whistle, robin's sigh,
Blackbird, bluebird, swallow, lark;
Each his native note might mark.
Oft he tried the lesson o'er,
Each time louder than before.
Burst at length the finished song;
Loud and clear it poured along;
All the choir in silence heard.
Hushed before this wondrous bird,
All transported and amazed,
Scarcely breathing, long I gazed.
Now it reached the loudest swell;

Lower, lower, now it fell,

Lower, lower, lower still;

Scarce it sounded o'er the rill.
Now the warbler ceased to sing;

Then he spread his russet wing,
And I saw him take his flight
Other regions to delight.

8

XXIV. - YOUTHFUL COURAGE.

FROM THE FRENCH.

On the night of the 12th of November, 1842, a fishing vessel, called the Napoleon, was overtaken by a dreadful storm, when a few miles distant from the coast of France. Towards midnight, the master of the vessel, whose name was Ramelly, ordered his son Gustavus to go down into the hold for some implement he wanted.

Hardly had the boy, who was only about fourteen years old, gone down, than he felt a great shock; and he rushed back upon deck. During his few minutes' absence, the vessel had shipped a sea which had swept every one from the deck, and thrown her upon her side. It was in vain that Gustavus called his father; nothing was heard but the noise of the raging sea; no reply was returned to his distracted cries: of the four persons that had been on board, the boy alone remained.

Without losing an instant in useless lamentations, as an ordinary mind might have done, Gustavus eagerly gazed upon the waves, and soon perceived, amid their white foam, a black point alternately appearing and disappearing. He could not swim; but what difficulty may not be overcome by courage united to presence of mind?

He lashes himself to the rigging, takes a rope in his hand, throws himself into the sea, and flings the rope to the poor creature, who seizes it eagerly, without guessing what deliverer Heaven sends him. By its help he regains the vessel at the same moment with Gustavus, who sees with unspeakable joy that the man whom he had rescued was his father.

But all was not done; and Gustavus tears himself away, to fly to the succor of one of his companions, whose cries for help he could hear above the storm. It was one of the two sailors belonging to the little vessel. He is saved; and the intrepid boy once again flung himself into the sea, to rescue the third sufferer; but he had disappeared forever.