Mr. Scott, of Benholm, near Montrose, many years ago caught a sea-gull, whose wings he cut, and put it into a walled garden, for the purpose of destroying slugs, of which these birds are very fond. It throve remarkably well in this situation, and remained about the place for several years. The servants were much attached to this animal, and it became so familiar that it came, at their call, to the kitchen door to be fed, and answered to the name of Willie. At length it became so domesticated, that no pains were taken to keep its wings cut; and having at last acquired their full plume, it flew away, and joined the other gulls on the beach, occasionally paying a visit to its old quarters. At the time the gulls annually leave that part of the coast, Willie also took his departure along with them, to the no small regret of the family, who were much attached to him. Next season, however, Willie again made his appearance, and visited the delighted family of Mr. Scott with his wonted familiarity. They took care to feed him well, to induce him, if possible, to become a permanent resident. But all would not do, for he annually left Benholm. This practice he regularly continued, for the extraordinary length of forty years, without intermission, and seemed to have much pleasure in this friendly intercourse. While he remained on that part of the coast, he usually paid daily visits to his friends at Benholm, answered to his name, and even fed out of their hands.

One year the gulls appeared on the coast, at their ordinary time; but Willie did not, as was usual, pay his respects immediately on reaching that neighborhood—from which they concluded that their favorite visitant was numbered with the dead, which caused them much sorrow. About ten days after, during breakfast, a servant entered the room exclaiming that Willie had returned. The overjoyed family, one and all of them, ran out to welcome Willie; an abundant supply of food was set before him, and he partook of it with his former frankness, and was as tame as a domestic fowl. In about two years afterwards, this bird disappeared forever. The above facts are confirmatory of the great age which the gull has been said to attain.

THE CORMORANT.

It is well known that this bird is taught by the Chinese to fish for them. A gentleman of Scotland some years ago obtained two young ones, which he succeeded in domesticating. They soon learned to fish on their own account, and when satisfied, would amuse themselves by quitting and retaking their prey. They sometimes remained for a whole day on board of ships when they were kindly treated, and when these sailed, they would accompany their friends to sea for a few miles. They were very familiar, but would not submit to be teased. When shot at, they always flew to the first person they saw belonging to their master's family, for protection. Their owner had their heads painted white, in order to distinguish them from the wild ones with whom they frequently associated.

THE SWAN.

At Abbotsbury, in Dorsetshire, there was formerly a noble swannery, the property of the Earl of Ilchester, where six or seven hundred were kept; but from the mansion being almost deserted by the family, this collection has of late years been much diminished.

A female swan, while in the act of sitting, observed a fox swimming towards her from the opposite shore. She instantly darted into the water, and having kept him at bay for a considerable time with her wings, at last succeeded in drowning him; after which, in the sight of several persons, she returned in triumph. This circumstance took place at Pensy, in Buckinghamshire.

THE GOOSE.

Miscellaneous Anecdotes.—"An old goose," says an English writer, "that had been for a fortnight sitting in a farmer's kitchen, was perceived on a sudden to be taken violently ill. She soon after left her nest, and repaired to an outhouse, where there was a young goose, which she brought into the kitchen. The young one immediately scrabbled into the old one's nest, sat, hatched, and afterwards brought up, the young goslings as her own. The old goose, as soon as the young one had taken her place, sat down by the side of the nest, and shortly afterwards died. As the young goose had never been in the habit of entering the kitchen before, it is supposed that she had in some way received information of the wants of the sick goose, which she accordingly administered to in the best way she could."

An English gentleman had some years ago a Canadian goose, which attached itself to a house dog. Whenever he barked, she cackled, ran at the person the dog barked at, and bit his heels. She would not go to roost at night with the other geese, but remained near the kennel, which, however, she never entered, except in rainy weather. When the dog went to the village, the goose always accompanied him, contriving to keep pace with him by the assistance of her wings; and in this way she followed him all over the parish. This extraordinary affection is supposed to have originated in the dog having rescued her from a foe in the very moment of distress.