lations, its coming always as the harbinger of spring and fresh abundance in the teeming waters, the persecutions to which it is subjected by the eagle, all combine to render it a favored bird wherever it appears in this country. Its fondness for particular localities increases this feeling greatly. Wilson says that along the Atlantic coast it is frequently as much as a luckless fowler's safety is worth who is detected in shooting the Fish-Hawk. He may congratulate himself on escaping from the rifle of the enraged owner of the property upon which it has been in the habit of building. We give Alexander Wilson's beautiful welcome to the Fish-Hawk.

THE FISHERMAN'S HYMN.

The osprey sails above the sound,

The geese are gone, the gulls are flying;

The herring shoals swarm thick around,

The nets are launch'd, the boats are plying;

Yo ho, my hearts! let's seek the deep,
Raise high the song, and cheerly wish her,
Still as the bending net we sweep,

"God bless the fish-hawk and the fisher!

She brings us fish-she brings us spring,

Good times, fair weather, warmth and plenty,

Fine store of shad, trout, herring, ling,

Sheepshead and drum, and old woman's dainty;
Yo ho, my hearts! let's seek the deep,

Fly every oar, and cheerly wish her,

Still as the bending net we sweep,

"God bless the fish-hawk and the fisher!"

She rears her young on yonder tree,

She leaves her faithful mate to mind 'em;

Like us, for fish, she sails the sea,

And plunging, shows us where to find 'em ;
Yo ho, my hearts! let's seek the deep,
Ply every oar, and cheerly wish her,
While the slow bending net we sweep,

"God bless the fish-hawk and the fisher!"

CHAPTER XIV.

MY WIFE'S STORY OF HER PET FINCHES.

THE loss of our pet, General Bem, was deeply felt. There was a sad vacancy in our home again, which we did not soon expect to have filled. However, one morning, while I yet wept for Bem, W— came in with a small cage in his hand, containing an English Bullfinch.

"See!" he said, "I have brought a fine Bullfinch to cheer you he sings very sweetly several German airs, and it will fill Bem's place a little for you!"

"No! no! I cannot let him stay-no bird can take Bem's place. I do not want another bird to love. Take him away."

"Poor little Bobby. I found him in the room of a rough fellow, who did not care for him, and who gladly exchanged the sullen bird, as he called him, for some trinket. A little girl whom I saw there told me how sweetly he sang, and I determined to have him at any rate. Must I take the poor bird away? He will be so startled among my clamorers, that he will not sing to me!"

"Well, let the fellow stay-though, I assure you, I cannot love him!"

So he hung the bird-cage on a nail in my room, and I tried to turn my back upon him. I could not help observing, however, that he seemed to relish the glow of my wood fire, and the warmth of the room, greatly; and was commencing to dress his feathers and to jump about in his little cage with quite a cheerful air.

I thought him at all events a sensible bird, and determined to give him a larger cage during the day. I then discovered that he had been so unfortunate as to lose three of his toes, perhaps in the struggles he had made, when he had been taken prisoner, by means of the deceitful bird-limed twig, so that he was almost incapable of resistance if one chose to catch him while in the cage, for in his efforts to cling to the perch, he was apt to lose his hold and tumble to the bottom of the cage, and then he would only crouch in a corner, and with his bright black eye, and beseeching chirp, pray to be left at peace.

For a week or more I took but little notice of him, only admiring his irresistible song; for he became so cheerful as to sing to us once or twice during the twenty-four hours.

One afternoon, however, I caught myself mimicking the droll whistle, with which he would break his song; and which had precisely the sound we express by the whewo-o-o! when we make what we know to be some ludicrous mistake.

He instantly repeated it more slowly. I tried again and again, till he seemed satisfied, and commenced the first bar of a strain of German music, and then paused! I looked "What, do you mean to teach me your song?"

up.

اممم

He repeated the notes, and I essayed to reproduce them; my effort, however, seemed to amuse the young master, for he drew out to its fullest extent his whew-ew-o But instantly commenced the bar again. By this time I had become thoroughly interested, and not liking to be laughed at, made a more successful effort. This time Bob seemed better satisfied, and added a few more notes. When I had achieved those, he repeated all and put me to the test, and so on through his whole song; every few moments, however, evidently heartily enjoying the fantastic mistakes which I made, and uttering his whistle in the most provokingly sarcastic tone. I was greatly amused, and related the story with great gusto on Mr. Webber's return.

The next morning when I came near the cage, the bird came as near me as he could, and commenced a pleasant chirping, which evidently meant "Good morning to you." This I returned in tones resembling his as nearly as I could, and it finally ended by my taking the young gentleman into my hand, and feeding him. He took his seeds from my fingers from that time, every morning, for two or three weeks. Then we were to leave C- for some time, and I sent him back to W, congratulating myself that I was yet heart-whole as far as Bobby was concerned.

In about a month we returned, and we called to see the birds. What was my surprise, when master Bullfinch instantly descended from his perch to the corner of the cage nearest to my face, and after the first chirp of greeting, commenced singing in a sweet undertone, bowing and turning, his feathers lifted, his eye gleaming, and his whole expression one of the most profound admiration for little me! I was quite heartless-only shrugging my shoulders and turning away.

But, I do not know exactly how it came about, in a few weeks I had the Painted Finch and the Bullfinch quite domesticated in my room; and, although I still said I did not love him, yet I talked a great deal to the bird; and as the little fellow grew more and more cheerful, and sang louder and oftener each day, was getting so handsome, I found plenty of reasons for increasing my attentions to him ; and then, above all things, he seemed to need my presence quite as much as sunshine, for if I went away, if only to my breakfast, he would utter the most piteous and incessant cries until I returned to him; when, in a breath, his tones were changed, and he sang his most enchanting airs. He made himself most fascinating by his polite adoration: he never considered himself sufficiently well dressed; he was most devoted in his efforts to enchain me by his melodies-art and nature, both were called to his aid, until finally I could no longer refrain from expressing in no measured terms my

admiration. He was then satisfied not to cease his attentions, but, to take a step further, he presented me with a straw, and even with increased appearance of adulation.

From that time he claimed me wholly, no one else could approach the cage; he would fight most desperately if any one dared, and if they laid a finger on me, his fury was unbounded; he would dash himself against the bars of his cage and bite the wires, as if he would obtain his liberty at all hazards, and thus be enabled to punish the offender.

If I went away now, he would first mourn, then endeavor to win me back by sweet songs. In the morning I was awakened by his cries, and if I but moved my hand, his moans were changed to glad greetings. If I sat too quietly at my drawing, he would become weary, seemingly, and call me to him; if I would not come, he would say in gentle tone, "Come-e-here! come-e-here!" so distinctly, that all my friends recognized the meaning of the accents at once, and then he would sing to me. All the day he would watch me, if I was cheerful,-he sang and was so gay! If I was sad, he would sit by the hour watching every movement, and if I arose from my seat, I was called "Come-e-here," and whenever he could manage it, if the wind blew my hair within his cage, he would cut it off, calling me to help him, as if he thought I had no right to wear anything else than feathers; and if I would have hair, it was only suitable for nest-building! If I let him fly about the room with the Painted Finch, he would follow so close in my footsteps that I was in constant terror that he would be stepped on, or be lost, in following me from the room. At last he came to the conclusion that I could not build a nest. I never seemed to understand what to do with the nice materials he gave me, and when I offered to return them, he threw his body to one side and looked at me so drolly from one eye, that I was quite abashed. From that time he seemed to think I must be a very young creature, and most assiduously fed me at stated periods during the day, throwing up from his own