cliffs of lakes, and large rivers. He continues in his native haunts during the whole year, and prefers the places we have mentioned, from his great partiality to fish. He destroys small quadrupeds, as lambs, pigs, &c.; and there are tolerably well authenticated instances of his making attacks upon children.

The nest of this bird is usually found in a lofty tree, in a swamp or morass. It is large; and being increased and repaired every season, becomes of great size. It is formed of large sticks, sods, hay, and moss. Few birds provide more plentifully for their young than the bald eagle. Fish are daily carried to the nest in such numbers, that they sometimes lie scattered around the tree.

The following description of one of his modes of taking his prey, is given by Wilson. Elevated upon a high, dead limb of some gigantic tree, that commands a wide view of the neighboring shore and ocean, he seems calmly to contemplate the motions of the various feathered tribes, that pursue their busy vocations below; the snow-white gull slowly winnowing the air, trains of ducks streaming over the surface, silent and watchful cranes, intently watching and wading, clamorous crows and all the winged multitudes, that sub sist by this vast liquid magazine of nature.

High over all these hovers one, whose actions instantly arrest the eagle's attention: he knows him to be the fish hawk, settling.

over some devoted victim of the deep. His eye kindles at the sight, and, balancing himself on the branch, with half opened wings, he watches the result.

Down, rapid as an arrow from heaven, descends the distant object of his attention; the roar of its wings reaching the ear as it disappears in the deep, making the surges foam around. At this moment, the eager looks of the eagle are all ardor, and, leveling his neck for flight, he sees the fish hawk once more emerge, struggling with his prey, and mounting in the air with screams of exultation.

These are the signals for our hero, when, launching into the air, he instantly gives chase, and soon gains on the fish hawk: each exerts his utmost strength to mount above the other, displaying the most elegant and sublime aerial evolutions.

The unincumbered eagle rapidly advances, and is just on the point of reaching his opponent, when with a sudden scream, probably of despair and honest execration, the latter drops his fish. The eagle, poising himself for a moment, as if to take a more certain aim, descends like a whirlwind, snatches it in his grasp before it reaches the water, and bears his ill-gotten booty silently away to the woods.

These predatory attacks and defensive maneuvers of the eagle and the fish hawk, are matters of daily observation along the whole

of our sea-board, from Georgia to New England, and frequently excite great interest in the spectators. Sympathy, however, on this, as on most other occasions, generally sides with the honest, laborious sufferer, in opposition to the attacks of power, injustice, and rapacity; qualities, for which our hero is so notorious, and which, in his superior, man, are detestable.

QUESTIONS.- -1 What is said of the Eagle in the first paragraph? 2 What places does it frequent? 3 Of what food is it very fond? 4 What else does the Eagle sometimes prey upon? 5 Where and how does the Eagle build its nest? 6. How does the Eagle sometimes rob the Fish Hawk? 7 What is said of men who exert superior power to injure others?

LESSON LXXXVI.

SPELL AND DEFINE.

1 Familiar, well acquainted; Intimate. 2 Garner, to store up as in a granary. 3 Revel, to move playfully or without regularity. 4 Summoned, gave notice to; cited. 5 Bequest, something left by will; a legacy. 6 Suffocation, a cessation of breathing. 7 Tremulous, trembling; quivering. 8 Vacant, empty; not filled. 9 Bland, mild; soft. 10 Verdant, green; fresh; flourishing. 11 Laden, loaded; freighted.

THE DYING BOY.

It must be sweet, in childhood, to give back
The spirit to its Maker; ere the heart
Has grown familiar with the paths of sin,
And sown-to garner up its bitter fruits.

I knew a boy whose infant feet had trod

Upon the blossoms of some seven springs,

And when the eighth came round, and called him out To revel in its light, he turned away,

And sought his chamber to lie down and die.

"Twas night-he summoned his accustomed friends, And, on this wise, bestowed his last bequest.

"Mother, I'm dying now!

There's a deep suffocation in my breast,
As if some heavy hand my bosom pressed;
And on my brow

I feel the cold sweat stand:

My lips grow dry, and tremulous, my breath
Comes feebly up. Oh tell me, is this death?
Mother, your hand—

Here-lay it on my wrist,

And place the other thus, beneath my head,
And say, dear mother, say, when I am dead
Shall I be missed?

Never beside your knee,

Shall I kneel down again at night to pray,
Nor with the morning wake and sing the lay
You taught me.

Oh! at the time of prayer,

When you look round and see a vacant seat,
You will not wait then for my coming feet-
You'll miss me there."

"Father, I'm going home!

To the good home you spoke of, that blest land

Where it is one bright summer, always bland,
And storms do not come.

I must be happy then,

From pain and death you say I shall be free,
That sickness never enters there, and we
Shall meet again!"

Brother, the little spot

I used to call my garden, where long hours
We've stayed to watch the coming buds and flowers;
Forget it not!

Plant there some box or pine,
Something that lives in winter, and will be
A verdant offering to my memory,

And call it mine.”

"Sister, my young rose tree

That, all the spring, has been my pleasant care,
Just putting forth its leaves so green and fair;
I give to thee.

And when its roses bloom

I shall be gone away, my short life done;
But will you not bestow a single one upon my tomb ?"

"Now, mother, sing the hymn

You sang last night; I'm weary, and must sleep.
Who was it called my name? Nay, do not weep,
You'll all come soon!"

Morning spread over earth with her rosy wings,
And that meek sufferer, cold, and ivory pale,
Lay. on his couch asleep. The gentle air

Came through the open window, freighted with
The odors of the lovely spring;