ment. Every hour in the day he would do this. The pressure was beginning to centre there. Then he would strike playfully at a leaf or a bit of wood, and keep his wings lifted. The next step was to spring into the air and beat his wings. He seemed now to be thinking entirely of his wings. They itched to be put to use. A day or two later he would leap and fly several feet. A pile of brush ten or twelve feet below the bank was easily reached. Here he would perch in true hawk fashion, to the bewilderment and scandal of all the robins and catbirds in the vicinity. Here he would dart his eye in all directions, turning his head over and glancing it up into the sky. you He was now a lovely creature, fully fledged, and as tame as a kitten. But he was not a bit like a kitten in one respect, he could not bear to have stroke or even touch his plumage. He had a horror of your hand, as if it would hopelessly defile him. But he would perch upon it, and allow you to carry him about. If a dog or cat appeared, he was ready to give battle instantly. He rushed up to a little dog one day, and struck him with his foot savagely. He was afraid of strangers, and of any unusual object. The last week in July he began to fly quite freely, and it was necessary to clip one of his wings. As the clipping embraced only the ends of his primaries, he soon overcame the difficulty, and by carrying his broad long tail more on that side, flew with considerable ease. He made longer and longer excursions into the surrounding fields and vineyards, and did not always return. On such occasions we would go find him and fetch him back. Late one rainy afternoon he flew away into the vine yard, and when, an hour later, I went after him, he could not be found, and we never saw him again. We hoped hunger would soon drive him back, but we have had no clew to him from that day to this. SUGGESTIONS FOR STUDY Does the quail's nest have anything to do with the hawks? Why is it put in? Do you think that the author's method here is a good one? Is the description of the young hawks clear and truthful? What details with regard to the pet hawk are mentioned from time to time? Are they important? Do you think that the conclusion of the selection is good? Why? Look through the piece: Are there any long, hard words, or any long, tangled sentences? What should you say of the way in which the author writes ? My Pet Bird THEME SUBJECTS A Ground Sparrow's Nest The Young Pigeon An Ugly Duckling When Our Canary Flew Away When the Chicks Were Hatched Feeding Sparrows in Winter The Birds at the Zoo Caring for Incubator Chickens SUGGESTIONS FOR THEME-WRITING Watching the Little Robins : Did you ever see a family of newly hatched robins in the nest? How did they look when you first saw them? Were they pleasing to look at? Were they quiet and well-behaved? Did you try to feed them? Can you describe the change in their appearance as you looked at them from time to time? Did you see them when they were learning to fly? Tell how they looked and acted. Did they all succeed in learning to fly? What became of them at last? My Pet Bird: - Tell where you got the bird, and how it looked when it first came into your possession. Where did you put it, and how did it like its new home? What did you feed it? Did it change any in appearance while it belonged to you? Why? Did you ever forget to care for it? What was the result of your carelessness? Did your bird ever escape? Tell some of its adventures. Did you try to train it, or teach it any tricks? What became of your bird? Camping and Tramping with Roosevelt The Credible and Incredible in Natural History. Independent, 62: 1344 (June, 1907). Fake Natural History. Outing, 49: 665 (Feb., 1907). Outing, 50: 124 (April, 1907). See also Outing, 44: 112 and 45: 115; Harper's, 109: 360; Century, 45: 509. See the Reference List for Neighbors of the Wilderness, page 142. See also the books about birds in the reference list for A White Heron, pages 202 and 203. An interesting portrait of Mr. Burroughs is given in the Outlook, 78: 878 (Dec. 3, 1904). An article by Washington Gladden, A Day at Slabsides (Burroughs's home), appears in the Outlook, 66: 351. THE PURLOINED LETTER EDGAR ALLAN POE Nil sapientiae odiosius acumine nimio. SENECA. AT Paris, just after dark one gusty evening in the autumn of 18—, I was enjoying the twofold luxury of meditation and a meerschaum, in company with my friend C. Auguste Dupin, in his little back library, or book closet, au troisième, No. 33 Rue Dunôt, Faubourg St. Germain. For one hour at least we had maintained a profound silence; while each, to any casual observer, might have seemed intently and exclusively occupied with the curling eddies of smoke that oppressed the atmosphere of the chamber. For myself, however, I was mentally discussing certain topics which had formed matter for conversation between us at an earlier period of the evening; I mean the affair of the Rue Morgue, and the mystery attending the murder of Marie Rogêt. I looked upon it, therefore, as something of a coincidence, when the door of our apartment was thrown open and admitted our old acquaintance, Monsieur G, the Prefect of the Parisian police. We gave him a hearty welcome; for there was nearly half as much of the entertaining as of the contemptible about the man, and we had not seen him for several years. We had been sitting in the dark, and Dupin now arose for the purpose of lighting a lamp, but sat down again, without doing so, upon G's saying that he had called to consult us, or rather to ask the opinion of my friend, about some official business which had occasioned a great deal of trouble. "If it is any point requiring reflection," observed Dupin, as he forbore to enkindle the wick, "we shall examine it to better purpose in the dark.” "That is another of your odd notions," said the Prefect, who had a fashion of calling everything "odd" that was beyond his comprehension, and thus lived amid an absolute legion of "oddities." "Very true," said Dupin, as he supplied his visitor with a pipe, and rolled towards him a comfortable chair. "And what is the difficulty now," I asked. "Nothing more in the assassination way, I hope?' 66 Oh, no; nothing of that nature. The fact is, the business is very simple indeed, and I make no doubt that we can manage it sufficiently well ourselves; but then I thought Dupin would like to hear the details of it, because it is so excessively odd." 66 Simple and odd," said Dupin. "Why, yes; and not exactly that, either. The fact is, we have all been a good deal puzzled because the affair is so simple, and yet baffles us altogether." 66 Perhaps it is the very simplicity of the thing which puts you at fault," said my friend. "What nonsense you do talk!" replied the Prefect, laughing heartily. "Perhaps the mystery is a little too plain," said Dupin. 66 'Oh, good Heavens! who ever heard of such an idea?" "A little too self-evident." "Ha! ha! ha! ha ha! ha! ho! ho! ho!" roared our visitor, profoundly amused. “O Dupin, you will be the death of me yet! |