THE CASSOWARY.
At Manila one object after another would be continually presenting itself to our notice, leading the thoughts into the still remote parts of the eastern world. In the yard of a gentleman stood this singular creature, which you felt obliged to call a bird yet you would prefer that it should be classed as an animal, for it seemed to belong among animals, though it is a biped. Its enormous legs, eighteen inches long, its fleshy protuberance on its head, coarsely imitating the tuft on the head of the peacock, left you in doubt how to assign it a place among the tribes of the animal kingdom, reminding you of the exploit in rhyming which a wit perpetrated with its name and its place of nativity, making Cassowary to rhyme with ‘missionary,’ and Timbuctoo with ‘hymn-book too.’