little height; he caught my shoulder as he sprang, and we both came to the ground below together. Growling horribly close to my ear, he shook me as a dog does a rat. The shock produced a stupor similar to that which seems to be felt by a mouse after the first shake of the cat. It caused a sort of dreaminess, in which there was no sense of pain or feeling of terror, though full consciousness of all that was happening. This singular condition was not the result of any mental process. The shake annihilated fear, and allowed no sense of horror in looking round at the beast. This peculiar state is probably produced in all animals killed by beasts of prey; and if so, is a merciful provision by the Creator for lessening the pain of death. Turning round to relieve myself of the weight, as he had one paw on the back of my head, I saw his eyes directed to my servant Mebálme, who was trying to shoot him at a distance of ten or fifteen yards. His gun missed fire in both barrels; the lion immediately left me, and attacking him bit his thigh. Another man, whose life I had saved before, after he had been tossed by a buffalo, attempted to spear the lion while he was biting Mebálme. Him he left, and caught this man by the shoulder, but at that moment the bullets he had received took effect, and he fell down dead. The whole was the work of a few moments, and must have been his paroxysm of dying rage. Besides crunching the bone into splinters, he left eleven wounds on the upper part of my arm.-LIVINGSTONE.

THE GOLDSMITH AND THE SOLDIER.

In a certain city there lived a very wealthy goldsmith, with whom a soldier had formed a friendship, which being heartfelt on his part, he thought it also sincere on the part of the goldsmith. It so happened that the said

soldier once found somewhere a bag full of gold. Filled with delight, he opened it, and on counting the pieces of money found them to amount to 250 in all. Forthwith he repaired to his friend the goldsmith in great glee, and said to him, "I have been most lucky to find, without any trouble or toil, such a sum of gold on the road." Ultimately he trusted the bag and its contents to the goldsmith, saying to him, "Brother, allow me to deposit it with you, and when I require it, I will get it from you again." Well, some time after, the soldier asked the goldsmith for his bag, upon which the fellow had the impudence to say to him, "Is this the reason forsooth that you made friendship with me, that you might fasten a calumny upon me, and make me out a thief? When did you give me a bag? You tell a falsehood! A fine affair indeed! Be off with you, and fasten your accusation on some man of wealth, and by that means you may get something to your liking. Little did I think that you would become my enemy. Conjoining truth with falsehood you now want to rob me of my property. It reminds one of the well-known proverb, Instead of the thief they punish the judge; the honest man dies weeping before the rogue.""

The upshot was that the poor soldier had no help for it but to go to the judge and make a complaint, which he accordingly did, recounting to him all the circumstances most minutely. The judge then asked him, "Have you any witnesses to the charge?" He replied, "No, your worship, I have no witnesses." The judge shrewdly conjectured that there would be no wonder if the goldsmith had acted dishonestly as stated. Acting on this conjecture, the judge sent for the goldsmith and his wife, but much as he tried by coaxing and persuasion, to get them to confess, they persisted in denying the charge. At last the judge

said to them, "I know for certain that you have made off with the bag, so, until you return it, I am determined I will not release you." Having thus said he went home, and thereupon shut up two confidential servants in a chest which he had placed in a certain room. Then returning again into the court, he said to the goldsmith, "If you do not consent to give the man back his gold, I shall have you put to death in the morning." Having thus spoken, he shut them both up in the said room, and telling them that he would execute them next morning, he retired to his private apartments. After midnight, the wife said to her husband, "If you really have taken the man's bag, then tell me where you have concealed it, otherwise my life, as well as the bag, will be lost. The judge will never let us off without getting the bag." The goldsmith thereupon told her that it was buried in a certain spot close by his bedstead. The two men in the box overheard this disclosure, and in the morning, when the judge sent for all four persons into his Court, and asked the two men what the other two individuals had said one to another during the night, they swore that they had heard to the above effect. The judge, therefore, sent and got the bag from the place indicated, gave it to the soldier, and hanged the goldsmith. TALES OF A PARROT.

FABLE-THE TOWN MOUSE AND THE COUNTRY MOUSE.

An honest, plain, sensible country mouse, is said to have entertained at his hole, one day, a fine mouse of the town. Having formerly been play fellows together, they were old acquaintances, which served as an apology for the visit. However, as master of the house, he thought himself obliged to do the honours of it, in all respects, and to make as great a stranger of his guest as he possibly could. In

order to do this, he set before him a dish of delicate meat cooked with green peas, and a pan of fine oatmeal, as well as some pieces of cheese; and to crown all, the remnant of a charming ripe apple. In good manners, he forebore to eat any himself, lest the stranger should not have enough; but, that he might seem to bear the other company, sat and nibbled a piece of straw' very busily. At length the Town mouse said to his friend, "How can you bear to live in this nasty, dirty, melancholy hole here, with nothing but woods, meadows, and mountains, and rivulets about you? Do not you prefer the conversation of the world to the chirping of birds, and the splendour of a court to the sad aspect of an uncultivated desert? Come, take my word for it, you will find it a change for the better. Never stand considering, but away this moment. Remember we are not immortal, and therefore have no time to lose. Make sure of to-day, and spend it as agreeably as you can, you know not what may happen to-morrow." In short, these, and such like arguments prevailed, and his country acquaintance was resolved to go to town that night. So they both set out upon their journey together, proposing to sneak in after the close of the evening. They did so; and about midnight, made their entry into a certain great house, where there had been an extraordinary entertainment the day before; and several delicate morsels, which some of the servants purloined, were hid under the seat of a window; the country guest was immediately placed in the midst of a rich Persian carpet; and now it was the courtier's turn to entertain, who, indeed, acquitted himself in that capacity with the utmost readiness and address, changing the dishes most elegantly, and tasting everything previous to offering it to his guest, who sat enjoying himself to the utmost, when, on a sudden, a noise

of somebody opening the door made them start from their seats, and run away in confusion about the dining room. Our country friend, in particular, was ready to die with fear at the barking of a huge mastiff or two, which opened their throats just about the same time, and made the whole house echo. At last, recovering himself, "Well, says he, if this be your town-life, much good may you do with it, give me my poor quiet hole again, with my homely, but comfortable fare."-Æsop's FABLES.

THE BALD EAGLE.

The celebrated cataract of Niagara is a noted place of resort for the bald eagle, as well on account of the fish procured there, as for the numerous carcases of deer, bears, and various other animals that, in their attempts to cross the river above the falls, have been dragged into the current, and precipitated down that tremendous gulf, where, among the rocks that bound the rapids below, they furnish a rich repast for the vulture, the raven, and the bald eagle, the subject of the present account. Formed by nature for braving the severest cold, feeding equally on the produce of the sea and of the land, possessing powers of flight capable of outstripping even the tempests themselves, unawed by anything but man, and, from the ethereal heights to which he soars, looking abroad at one glance on an immeasurable expanse of forests, fields, lakes, and ocean below him, he appears indifferent to the little inconveniences of change of seasons, as in a few minutes he can pass from summer to winter, from the lower to the higher regions of the atmosphere, the abode of eternal cold, and from thence descend at will to the torrid or the arctic regions of the earth.

*Hot and cold.