The hill mina, a mountaineer by birth, seldom lives long in confinement in lowland districts. After having endeared himself to his master and his family by his conversational powers and imitative qualities, he is not unfrequently cut off suddenly by a fit, and sometimes expires while feasting on his bread and milk or pea-meal-paste, or perhaps when he has only a few minutes before been calling out loudly his master's name or those of the children. The hill mina is a handsome bird, a size larger than our black-bird; he is of one uniform colour—a glossy black, like the smoothest Genoa velvet, harmonising beautifully with the bright yellow circle of skin round his eyes, his yellow beak and yellow legs.
The grackle or salik, which is a great favourite in the Isle of France, has been correctly enough described in Partington's Cyclopædia. It is a gregarious bird, greatly enlivening the aspect of the grassy meadows at sunset, when his comrades assemble in large flocks, and having picked up their last meal of grubs and grasshoppers, resort for shelter to a neighbouring avenue, where they roost for the night. The grackle is a tame and familiar bird, and will sometimes build its nest close to the habitation of man. I have seen one on the top of a pillar, under the shelter of a veranda; and occasionally an earthen-pot is placed for its accommodation in the fork of a neighbouring tree. Though their brood may be constantly removed, they will return, year after year, to the same nest, expressing, however, their discontent and distress when robbed, by keeping up for some days a loud and querulous chattering.
Those who dwell on the banks of the Ganges may sometimes see, during the rainy season, a large boat floating past, having a raised cabin, like a Bengalee hut, constructed of mat and straw. From the multiplicity of cages inside and outside, it may be gathered that here are fresh supplies for the bird-fancier—captives from the hills of Rajmahal and Moryheer. The constant fluttering among the inmates of the crowded cages, and their mournful and discordant notes, indicate that they are anything but a happy family—that they have been only recently caught, and are not yet habituated to confinement. They are soon, however, disposed of at the different stations or towns at which the boat anchors, and become in due time the solitary and apparently happy pets I have already described.
I need only add, that there is no lack of pretty little bird-cages in the Far East, constructed very tastefully by the neat-handed natives, and sold for two or three annas.
JUVENILE ENERGY.
In December 1807, W.H. Maynard, Esq., was teaching a school for a quarter in the town of Plainfield, Massachusetts. One cold, blustering morning, on entering his schoolroom, he observed a lad he had not seen before, sitting on one of the benches. The lad soon made known his errand to Mr Maynard. He was fifteen years old; his parents lived seven miles distant; he wanted an education, and had come from home on foot that morning, to see if Mr Maynard could help him to contrive how to obtain it. Mr Maynard asked him if he was acquainted with any one in the place. 'No.' 'Do your parents know any one here?' 'No.' 'Can your parents help you towards obtaining an education?' 'No.' 'Have you any friends that can give you assistance!' 'No.' 'Well, how do you expect to obtain an education?' 'I don't know, but I thought I would come and see you.' Mr Maynard told him to stay that day, and he would see what could be done. He discovered that the boy was possessed of good sense, but no uncommon brilliancy; and he was particularly struck with the cool and resolute manner in which he undertook to conquer difficulties which would have intimidated common minds. In the course of the day, Mr Maynard made provision for having him boarded through the winter in the family with himself, the lad paying for his board by his services out of school. He gave himself diligently to study, in which he made good but not rapid proficiency, improving every opportunity of reading and conversation for acquiring knowledge: and thus spent the winter. When Mr Maynard left the place in the spring, he engaged a minister, who had resided about four miles from the boy's father, to hear his recitations; and the boy accordingly boarded at home and pursued his studies. It is unnecessary to pursue the narrative further. Mr Maynard never saw the lad afterwards. But this was the early history of the Rev. Jonas King, D.D., whose exertions in the cause of Oriental learning, and in alleviating the miseries of Greece, have endeared him alike to the scholar and the philanthropist, and shed a bright ray of glory on his native country.