Those burnished colours to bestow,

Her pencil in the heavenly bow

She dipp'd; and made thy plumes to glow

With every hue

That in the dancing sun-beam plays;

And with the ruby's vivid blaze

Mingled the emerald's lucid rays

With halcyon blue.

Then placed thee under genial skies,
Where flowers and shrubs spontaneous rise,
With richer fragrance, bolder dyes,

By her endued;

And bade thee pass thy happy hours
In tamarind shades and palmy bowers,
Extracting from unfailing flowers

Ambrosial food.

There, lovely bee-bird! may'st thou rove
Through spicy vale and citron grove,
And woo and win thy fluttering love

With plume so bright;

There rapid fly, more heard than seen,
'Mid orange-boughs of polished green,
With glowing fruit, and flowers between
Of purest white.

There feed and take thy balmy rest,

There weave thy little cotton nest,

And may no cruel hand molest

Thy timid bride;

Nor those bright changeful plumes of thine
Be offered on the unfeeling shrine,

Where some dark beauty loves to shine
In gaudy pride.

Such triflers should be taught to know,
Not all the hues thy plumes can show
Become them like the conscious glow
Of modesty;

And that not half so lovely seems
The ray that from the diamond gleams,
As the pure gem that trembling beams

THE HUMMING-BIRD.

In the radiant islands of the West,
Where fragrant spices grow,

A thousand thousand humming-birds
Go glancing to and fro.

Like living fires they flit about,
Scarce larger than a bee,
Among the broad palmetto leaves,

And through the fan-palm tree.

And in those wild and verdant woods
Where stately moras tower,

Where hangs from branching tree to tree
The scarlet passion-flower;

Where on the mighty river banks,

La Plate and Amazon,

The cayman, like an old tree trunk,
Lies basking in the sun;

There builds her nest the humming-bird,

Within the ancient wood,

Her nest of silky cotton down,
And rears her tiny brood.

She hangs it to a slender twig,
Where waves it light and free,
As the campanero* tolls his song
And rocks the mighty tree.

All crimson is her shining breast,
Like to the red red rose;

Her wing is the changeful green and blue
That the neck of the peacock shows.

Thou happy happy humming-bird,

No winter round thee lours;
Thou never saw'st a leafless tree,
Nor land without sweet flowers.

A reign of summer joyfulness
To thee for life is given;

Thy food, the honey from the flower;
Thy drink, the dew from heaven!

Mary Howitt.

2. THE OSTRICH.

THE humming-bird is the smallest and the ostrich the largest of birds. The ostrich is often found eight feet in height, from the crown of the head to the ground. It

* Campanero-a West Indian bird, whose note sounds like the toll of a distant convent-bell.

inhabits the sandy deserts of Arabia and Africa, in large flocks, everywhere avoiding the society of man.

Among the Arabs it is called the camel-bird, because, like that animal, it lives in the desert, and can exist a long time without water; and probably, also, because of the general appearance of its neck, body, and legs. The top of the head and the neck are covered with hair instead of feathers. Each foot is divided into two toes, which may be compared to the hoof of a camel; and like it, too, the under part is provided with a soft pad, or cushion, well suited to its movements over the sandy deserts it inhabits.

There is a beautiful description of the ostrich in the thirty-ninth chapter of the book of Job:

"Gavest thou wings and feathers unto the ostrich ? Which leaveth her eggs in the earth,

And warmeth them in dust,

And forgetteth that the foot may crush them,

Or that the wild beast may break them."-(Ver. 13–15.)

The hen ostrich usually sits upon her eggs as other birds do; but as the heat of the sun aids in hatching her brood, she often leaves her nest for some time. She frequently wanders far in search of food, or is easily driven away; and it is said, if she finds another nest with eggs, she will sit upon them, forgetful of her own.

"She is hardened against her young ones,

As though they were not hers:

Her labour is in vain without fear."—(Ver. 16.)

"On the least noise, or most trivial occasion," says Dr. Shaw," she forsakes her eggs or her young ones, to which perhaps she never returns; or if she does, it may be too

late either to restore life to the one or preserve the lives of the others. The Arabs often meet with a few of the little ones, no bigger than well-grown pullets, half starved, straggling and moaning about, like so many distressed orphans, looking for their mother. In this manner the ostrich may be said to be 'hardened against her young ones, as though they were not hers:' 'her labour,' in hatching and attending them, so far being 'vain without fear,' or the least concern of what becomes of them afterwards.'

"Because God hath deprived her of wisdom, Neither hath he imparted to her understanding." (Ver. 17.)

Many of the habits of this bird seem to show great dulness and want of understanding. For instance, it sometimes hides its head when closely pursued, as though it thereby quite concealed its whole body! Its senseless choice of food is also very remarkable: it greedily swallows anything that comes in its way. It lives, however, chiefly on vegetable substances, as seed and grain, and is often found a most unwelcome visitor to the African farmer.

"What time she lifteth up herself on high,

She scorneth the horse and his rider."-(Ver. 18.) The ostrich is often hunted on horseback; and though its wings are of no service in flying, they are very useful for increasing its speed. It flaps them to the wind, using them as sails and paddles, and thus urges its way along with great force. In its rapid flight, its long toes cast the sand and stones behind it, like shot, against its pursuers.

When M. Adanson was at Podar, a French factory on the southern bank of the River Niger, two young but