burrows in trees. Having found the spot under which the grub is at work, it chisels down upon it by means of strong jaws and teeth specially constructed for the purpose. But no sooner does the grub find its dwelling broken into than it retreats to the other end of its burrow and all the labour of the Aye-Aye would probably be in vain, had not nature anticipated this difficulty by bestowing on it a most odd-looking contrivance in the shape of an enormously prolonged and slender middle finger having a kind of hook at the end, with which it probes into the recesses of the burrow and extracts the impaled grub.

In ancient Bible times herds and flocks constituted the riches of the wealthy. Jabal was "the father of such as dwell in tents and of such as have cattle." A great herdsman was equivalent to a great proprietor, and he was qualified for the highest offices. Abraham and Lot possessed much wealth of this kind, and they separated because it was difficult to find sufficient pasture for their united herds. Moses was a shepherd after his flight from Egypt, while he tended the flocks of his father-in-law, Jethro, in the land of Midian; Amos, the prophet, was a herdsman. Among "cattle" were anciently included oxen, sheep, goats, horses, asses, camels, and indeed nearly all the beasts most useful to man for feeding, clothing, and other important purposes. What could be more natural, therefore, than that the Three Children, when praising God for his blessings, should have specially dwelt on this "good gift."

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

Ps. xxiii.

FOWLS OF THE AIR.

O ye Fowls of the Air, bless ye the Lord: praise Him, and magnify Him for ever.

T may be truly affirmed that Birds are not surpassed by any class of animals in the illus

trations they afford of the Power, Wisdom and Goodness of the Creator. Their shape and plumage attract our admiration. Their voices fill our woods in Spring with sounds of cheerfulness and life. The grace, boldness, and endurance of their flight excite astonishment; the unerring certainty with which, at the period of migration, many of them traverse seas and continents exceeds our comprehension; while the industry, faithfulness and devotion displayed by them in the construction of their nests and the rearing of their young claim for them our sympathy and protection.

The song of birds has evidently the closest relation to the period of breeding, and common sense plainly tells us that it must be one of the chief attractions between the mated pair. The mistress of the nest listens complacently to the notes poured forth in her honour, which, in a language she well understands, both encourage her in her preparations, and add to the pleasure of her task.

At other seasons of the year, unless incubation be going on, there is comparatively little singing. It has answered its purpose, and the presence of the loved young ones in the nest is nature's guarantee that the parents will tenderly bring their offspring up, and send them forth into the world when they are ready to cope with its difficulties.

Let us not pass on without a grateful tribute to the sky-lark, whose song delights us nearly all the year round. When other birds leave us, he never forsakes his home; when others have become mute, his cheery voice may still be heard. Scarcely are the noise and dust of the busy city left behind before he salutes us with his song; as we walk onwards the gladsome carol is caught up by others of the band; and when our stroll ends it still lingers in our ears. Of all the feathered songsters he is the most constant companion of our rambles, and ever seems as willing to sing as we are to listen. Poised as a dark speck in the clear air, or rising on quivering wings above the verdant field, his song gushes out as if from an abounding fountain. Upwards-upwards-higher and higher-until at length the songster himself almost vanishes from sight, and the softened and faintly heard notes seem to come to us out of the depths of the firmaThere is no bird we would not sooner spare, or whose absence we should feel so much.

ment.

The singing of birds may be considered from another point of view. It is something more than a language between themselves, for it is likewise a contribution towards the pure enjoyments of life. To thousands it brings a pleasure which, though small perhaps in itself, must still be added to the list of the little enjoyments scattered abundantly around which in reality make up so much of the happiness of daily life. These concerts of nature's choristers form one of the attractions of the country; but even

to the inhabitants of cities birds bring much pleasure, if we may judge by the number of feathered songsters tenderly preserved as pets. In reflecting upon such matters, do we not feel that their value consists less in the direct pleasure they bring than in the proof they afford that even in little things "He careth for us?"

It will be generally admitted that no animals possess a covering which in beauty is comparable to the plumage of birds; and yet, as always happens where nature is the artist, this beauty has not been purchased at the cost of any useful quality. On the contrary, what lighter clothing could have been devised for creatures whose aerial flights render lightness indispensable? The entire plumage of an owl weighs only an ounce and a half! Or what clothing could be warmer than the feathered quilt in which they are wrapped? And how essential a warm covering is to shield them from the heat-robbing currents of air and water to which they are exposed! To make the clothing perfect nothing more was necessary than that it should be waterproof. The other qualities of the plumage would be useless if water could penetrate among the feathers, and convert them from a dry, impermeable armour into a sodden mass clinging to the skin. Unable to resist the cold, the bird would then have perished. But the plumage has been perfected by giving to birds, and especially to water-fowl, the power to secrete an oily matter, which being smeared over the feathers renders them impervious to moisture. All must have observed that when a bird is dead, and can no longer diffuse this oil over its feathers, the water soaks in and soon spoils the plumage. The feathers are so arranged over the body of the bird that in flying or swimming the pressure of the air or water keeps them closely applied to the skin, so as to offer the least resistance to motion. Thus may we with admiration perceive how perfect in all points is

the feathery covering of birds in relation to the purposes it is required to serve.

The wings of birds exhibit some beautiful proofs of creative design. As in rapid flight the wings beat forcibly against the air, it is obvious that, unless the feathers were strongly constructed, the weaker parts would give way, and by thus allowing the air to pass through the power of flight would be impaired. But this defect has been obviated by furnishing the barbs of the vane, or more pliant part of the feather, with what are called "barbules," forming on either side minute hooks curved in contrary directions, which by intercrossing and locking with each other knit the feather into a strong compact paddle, so firm in most birds that it will not yield, though driven through the air with a force that causes the well-known whistling sound. And it is a further proof of design that certain birds, such as owls, which are in the habit of stealing slyly upon their victims, do not possess this structure, as it would be attended with the inconvenience of giving their prey notice of their approach. The wings of owls are consequently loose and soft, but as they thereby allow much of the air to pass through them they are not adapted for rapid flight. Hence the slow, noiseless, mysterious gliding of these birds.

The prominence of the keel of the breastbone, with which all are familiar in poultry, gauges the size of the muscles which move the wings, and indicates the flying power of the bird itself. In those whose flight is rapid this projection is large, while in others not intended to fly the keel is shallow or wanting, and the pectoral muscles small in proportion. The speed of birds offers great variety. When the flight does not exceed 30 miles an hour, they are considered slow flyers. The speed of the swallow is computed at 90 miles, the hawk 150 miles, while that of the swift is said to attain the astounding