and having only a rudiment of the white boots, which are both so conspicuous in the males. Humming birds vary from a humble bee in size to that which we see more commonly in collections. Every part of their structure is worthy of minute observation. The wing-shaft is peculiarly strong and elastic, the breast-bone is very large, the pectoral muscles have great strength, the plumage is "thick without burden, close as fishes scales," while the shape, no less than the structure, of the wing admirably adapts it to rapid and long-continued flight. Small and feeble are their legs and feet, for no others are required by birds that keep their bodies in the air, apparently motionless for hours together, and that settle on a twig only to preen their plumage, and to arrange the moss and down of their nests. The facts now stated will serve to verify the poetic description of an American writer. "When morning dawns, and the blest sun again Lifts its red glories from the western main, Then through our woodbines, wet with glittering dews, The flower-fed humming bird its round pursues; Sips, with inverted tube, the honey'd blooms, And chirps his gratitude as round he roams; While richest roses, though in crimson drest, Audubon, the eminent naturalist, who had enjoyed the best opportunities for studying this most interesting tribe of animated nature, emphatically exclaims:-" Where is the person who, on seeing this lovely little creature moving on humming winglets through the air, suspended as if by magic in it, flitting from one flower to another with motions as graceful as they are light and airy, pursuing its course over an extensive continent, and yielding new delights wherever it is seen; where is the person I ask of you, kind reader, who, on observing this beautiful fragment of the rainbow, would not pause and admire, and instantly turn his mind with reverence towards the Almighty Creator, the wonders of whose hand we at every step discern, and of whose sublime conceptions we everywhere observe the manifestations in the admirable system of creation?" One species alone never shows its beauty to the sun; and were it not for his lovely colours, the naturalist would be almost disposed to remove him from the tribe of humming birds, and to class him with the goat-suckers, because of his habits. He is the largest and longest of the humming birds, and is of mingled red and a changing gold-green, except the head, which is black; as are also two long tail-feathers, which cross each other. He is never found on the sea-coast or where the water is salt, or about the trees of a forest, except fresh water be there. He keeps by the side of the woody fresh-water rivers and dark and lonely creeks, leaving his retreat before sunrise to feed on the insects hovering over the water, returning to it as soon as the rays of the solar orb cause a glare of light, continuing sedentary all day long, and only emerging again a short time after sunset. What a singular exception does he present to the general habits of his race! Although the blossoms of shrubs and trees of every kind attract the humming bird, yet tubular flowers are its greatest favourites, not so much on account of the nectar they contain as for the insects which crowd the recesses of the blossom to feed upon its sweets. Arriving before a thicket of them when fully blown, the little creature poises or suspends its radiant body on the wing for the space of two or three seconds, so steadily, that its little pinions become invisible, or only like a mist; and then it is that the pupil of the eye may be distinguished working round with great rapidity and wariness, while the glossy golden-green of its back and the fire of its throat, alike radiant and dazzling in the sun, appear as a cluster of the brightest gems. Its only note is a single chirp, not louder than that of a small cricket or grasshopper, and generally uttered when passing from flower to flower, or while engaged in some battle with its fellows; then the combatants ascend in the air, and chirp as they dart and circle round each other, till the eye is no longer able to follow them. A humming bird will attack and tease, for a few moments, the king-bird; and in its turn is assaulted by the humble bee, which, however, it soon puts to flight. This little creature is one of the few birds which seems to be a favourite with all, and is molested only for the sake of capture. The humming bird sometimes places its nest on the upper side of a horizontal branch, and not among the twigs: at others, it is attached by the side to an old moss-grown trunk; and, more rarely, to a strong rank stalk or weed. When a branch is selected, it is usually not many feet from the ground. "A very complete one," says Wilson, the celebrated ornithologist, "is lying before me, and the materials of which it is composed are as follows:-The outward coat is formed of small pieces of a species of bluish-grey lichen, that vegetates on old trees and fences, thickly glued on with the saliva of the bird, giving firmness and consistency to the whole, as well as keeping out moisture. Within this are thin matted layers of the fine wings of certain flying seeds, closely laid together: and lastly, the downy substance from the green mullein, and from the stalks of the common ferns, lines the whole. The base of the nest is continued round the stem of the branch, to which it closely adheres; and, when viewed from below, appears a mere mossy knot, or accidental protuberance. The eggs are two, pure white, and of equal thickness at both ends." With the following illustrative incident our chapter must be concluded. A young man, a few days before his departure from Jamaica, surprised a female humming bird in the act of incubation, caught it, removed the branch on which the nest was, and carried them very carefully on board the ship. The little creature became sufficiently tame, during the passage, to suffer herself to be fed with honey and water, and actually hatched her offspring; but she died at the close of the voyage. Two young ones, however, survived it, and came into the possession of Lady Hammond and Sir Henry Englefield; they were sufficiently tame to take honey with their bills from the lady's lips: but one speedily died, and the other only lived two months after its arrival. THE WHIP-POOR-WILL. ABOUT the time that the cheerful note of the cuckoo is heard by day in our land, announcing the full arrival of spring, a wildlyshrill sound salutes the ear at night-fall in various parts of the United States, and is continued through the hours of balmy sleep. The sound in question proceeds from a bird popularly styled the Whip-poor-Will (Antrostomus vociferus), on account of the remarkable resemblance of its cry to the pronunciation of those words. The accent is very strongly laid upon the last word; next in order upon the first; and last of all upon the middle. The expression is not uniformly distinct. It varies to Whippoo-Will, Whip-peri-Will, and Whip-Whip-poor-Will; but the ordinary cry corresponds to the popular name, and the words are uttered as perfectly as they could be by the human voice. The cry is never heard in the daytime, the bird then retiring to the densest and darkest woods; but from about dusk to midnight, especially on gloomy nights, and just before dawn, the call is incessantly repeated in certain situations, which are chiefly elevated woodlands and rocky grounds, low, K marshy, and maritime districts being avoided by the feathered recluse. If not "most musical," the note is "most melancholy" to a stranger; and forcibly lays hold of the imagination when it is heard at intervals amidst the sobbing, sighing, and howling of the wind, while ragged clouds are flying across the moonless sky. It seems as though it came from some intelligent, conscience-struck and self-tormented spirit, seeking rest and finding none, craving chastisement in order to do justice on itself for some transgression; or from some innocent victim disconsolate under long exposure to the lash of the oppressor. The effect is heightened by the obscurity courted by the bird; for though the sound may betray its near neighbourhood, appearing as if it were at one's very threshold, it comes from a carefully-concealed object, nestling on the ground beneath some bush, and may be called the voice of the sad unknown. The North American Indians have a tradition of a great massacre of the red men by the whites, and regard the Whip-poorWills as uttering the complaints of their departed ancestors. The following lines from the pen of General Morris, long a resident on the banks of the Hudson river, and who conducted one of the New York literary journals, express the train of thought naturally excited by the mourning strain :- "Why dost thou come at set of sun, Those pensive words to say? Why whip poor Will?-What has he done? And who is Will, I pray? "Why come from yon leaf-shaded hill, A suppliant at my door?— "If poverty's his crime, let mirth That seems the deadliest sin on earth, |