"Do not speak too positively on that point, my boy," said Mrs. Leslie, "I am by no means sure that we may not discover some treasure before we reach home. Now, stop! hush! just watch that little wren, see how rapidly she moves in search of the insects on which she feeds."

"Oh, the little fairy!" exclaimed Emily, "Is she not beautiful!" Each had some whispered observation to make as they watched the bird with eager eyes.

"I wish she would sing!" "If we could but

realizing the wish, alarmed the little creature, and

away she flitted.

"Ah! she is gone," said Mrs. Leslie,

pity! and now on, boys."

66

"what a

'But, Mamma, how I wish I could have a wren in a cage," said Harry.

"I do not think it would live in a cage," said his mamma, "you could not give it a full supply of insect food, and though something might be found to supply its place, I should not wish you to try the experiment. Besides, you know how much papa dislikes caging birds, whose habits we can watch so pleasantly without robbing them of freedom. The song of the wren is sweet and powerful; you will soon learn to distinguish it. A few years ago, when I was a great invalid, I found it difficult to rest before morning. It happened that a wren had fixed on a clump of evergreen shrubs under my chamber window for her home. Very early in the morning, long before other birds were abroad, it seemed to me, the little wren would mount on the shrubs, and begin her sweet and powerful song. It was so powerful as to awaken Then she was silent for awhile, and I dropt asleep. But soon my little bird began to sing again with all her might, and to sleep was impossible. It is said, that no other native bird has such a volume of song, in proportion to its size, as the common wren. Many a time have I wished that my tiny neighbour were a less early riser, or

me at once.

that she would defer her song till a more reasonable hour for her neighbours to be awakened by it.”

“Oh, the dear little wren!" said Emily, “I wish she would come and sing under my window, and then I should always get good marks for early rising, and be ready with my lessons as soon as Miss Elmer comes into the schoolroom."

They now hastened forward, and the hoops rolled swiftly along. Now and then Emily stopped when her brothers outstripped her in speed, and fell back to talk with Mamma.

"I think we may go on to the large pond in the park, and visit the water fowl," said Mrs. Leslie, "these birds are now getting their best plumage. We shall find some of them in their richest dresses, though others will still be wearing sober colours, waiting the arrival of spring fashions. Ah, there is the pond!" The boys drew up with a shout as soon as they came within sight of the water, and stringing their hoops on the crooked rods with which they had driven them, walked round the pond, looking eagerly after the wild fowl. Wild duck, wigeons, teal, dab-chicks, &c. &c. floated on the surface, or nestled on the reedy sides of a large sheet of water, used as a preserve for these birds. A great variety had been collected there, and lured to remain by abundant food and convenient covert. Arthur Neville had joined his young friends on the road, and looked with equal interest on the scene before them.

As they watched the birds Harry said, "I think it must be very nice to swim about as those ducks and geese and swans do. I think I should like to be a water-fowl, if I could fly back and be a boy when I pleased."

George and Arthur thought, that migrating as the wild-fowl do must be the best fun, because it would be such a nice way of travelling to see other countries. It would be much pleasanter, they said, to be always flying or swimming, instead of being shut up in a railroad carriage, or in the cabin of a steamer. "that they

"But it is very odd," said George, never get their feathers wet. Do you really think, Mamma, that they oil their feathers, by pressing with their bills a little bag of oil at the root of each feather? Charles Neville says so-but you know he often says things in jest."

"The

"I do not think I am better authority than Charles on this subject," said Mrs. Leslie. opinion you mention is the one generally received, but a gentleman who has closely studied the subject, has lately given a different explanation of it.* He He says, the power of throwing off the water from their feathers, so that not even diving makes them wet, is not caused by their oiling their plumage. There is often no time to do this, as they dive instantly when pursued or wounded. It is this writer's opinion, that though there may *See "Tour in Sutherlandshire," by Bayle St. John, Esq.

be some oiliness in the feathers, the cause why the water runs off so readily is not to be found in this oiliness, but in the manner in which the feathers are placed. It is well known, that all birds have the power of raising their feathers, and moving them in any direction by means of muscles in the skin. As soon as death deprives their muscles of power, the feathers hang loose and are easily wetted. The same thing happens when the wing is seriously injured, so that the bird has no longer command over the muscles. In this case, the feathers on the injured part retain the water, while the feathers on the rest of the body throw it off."

"That swan is all right," said George; "see how he throws the water over his back, and comes out all dry again."

After pacing almost all round the pond watching the birds, they took the homeward path. The boys followed their flying hoops. Emily kept near her mamma, sometimes peering into the hedges and banks. For a considerable time, she saw little beside grass, dead leaves, and fragments of decayed wood. At length a joyful exclamation burst from her lips as she drew forth a bit of discoloured stick. It had a beautiful carmine-coloured fungus on it, the Peziza coccinea, the first of the season,

"George! Harry! Arthur! look! look!"

The boys turned quickly at her call, and fully shared her pleasure.