cage. A fourth suffered itself to be shot at, and, falling down, as if dead, to be put into a little wheelbarrow, and wheeled away by one of its comrades; and several of the birds were, at the same time, placed upon a little firework, and continued there quietly, and without alarm, till it was discharged. LESSON XXXIV. SPRING. COME, let us go forth into the fields; let us see how the flowers spring; let us listen to the warbling of the birds, and sport ourselves upon the new grass. The winter is over and gòne; the buds come out upon the trèes; the crimson blossoms of the peach and the nèctarine | are seen; and the green leaves sprout. The hedges are bordered with tufts of primroses, and yellow cowslips that hang down their heads; and the blue violet lies hid beneath the shade. The young goslings are running upon the green; they are just hatched; their bodies are covered with yellow down; the old ones hiss with anger, if any one comes near. The hen sits upon her nest of straw; she watches patiently the full time, till the young chickens come out. The lambs are in the field; they totter by the side of their dams; their young limbs can hardly support their weight. If you fall, little lambs, you will not be hurt; there is spread under you | a carpet of soft grass, to receive you. The butterflies flutter from bush to bush, and open their wings to the warm sun. The young animals of every kind, are sporting about; they feel themselves happy; they are glad to be alive. The birds can warble, and the young lambs can bleat; but we can open our lips | in God's praise; we can speak of all His goodness. Therefore we will thank Him for ourselves, and we will thank Him for those that cannot speak. Trees that blossom, and little lambs that skip about, if you could, you would say how good He is. But you are dumb; and we will say it for you. We will not offer you in sacrifice, but we will offer sacrifice for you: on every hill, and in every green field, we will offer the sacrifice of thanksgiving, and the incense of praise. LESSON XXXV. THE HUMMING-BIRD. THE principal food of the humming-bird, is the honey which it extracts, while on the wing, from the bottom of tube-shaped flowers. The smallest humming-bird is about the size of a hazel nut. The feathers on its wings and tail are black; but those on its body, and under its wings, are of a greenish brown, with a fine red gloss, which no silk or velvet can be made exactly to imitate. The bill is black and slender; and the head is adorned with a small crest, which sparkles in the sun, like a little star, in the middle of the forehead. The larger humming-bird, which is nearly half as large as the wren, is without a crest; but, to make amends, it is covered, from the throat half way down the body, with red feàthers, which, in some lights, are as bright as fire. The heads of both are small, with little round eyes, as black as jet. The nests of these birds, which are about the size of a hen's egg cut in two, are not less curious than the bird: they are hung in the air, sometimes at the point of the twigs of an orange tree; and are composed of cotton, or fine moss. The humming-bird lays two eggs, about the size of small peas, and as white as snow, with here and there | a yellow speck; and, at the end of twelve days, the young ones appear. They are at first báre, but are gradually covered with down, and at last with feathers. LESSON XXXVI. THE CAT, THE OLD MOUSE, AND THE YOUNG MOUSE. САТ. O thou pretty little creature,- Oh! I love thee passing well, OLD MOUSE. My child! I beg thee not to gò.— CAT. Look! and behold this tempting show! These nuts and cakes shall all be thìne,— YOUNG MOUSE. O mother, hear! How kind she speaks,—what dàinty cheer! I go. OLD MOUSE. Take this advice of mine. CAT. See this delicious gingerbread !— YOUNG MOUSE. What shall I do? Oh! let me gó.* OLD MOUSE. My child, I say, do not do so! YOUNG MOUSE. What evil can we meet? САТ. You little rogue! come here! come here! YOUNG MOUSE. O mother, help! Oh! give me aid! OLD MOUSE. 'T is now too late ;-in vain | for hèlp you call:He that takes no advice, must bear with all! *The tone of entreaty, when not extremely emphatic, takes the rising inflection. |