Spoonbill.
The variety in the forms of birds is a subject of great interest. How different is the duck, with its short legs, from the spoonbill, which seems to be walking upon stilts; the common barn-door fowl, with its short neck, from the flamingo, whose neck is almost a yard in length, and not half as thick as your wrist! How different is an ostrich, which will carry a boy upon its back, from the little humming-bird, which seems scarcely larger than a humble-bee!
Who can look forth upon the landscape, and notice the feathered tribes, glancing from tree to tree, and from bush to bush, delighting the eye with their pleasing forms and lovely hues, and the ear with their charming melody, and the heart with that aspect of life and cheerfulness, which they throw over the meadow, forest and field, and not lift up his thoughts to heaven and say, “Oh Lord, how manifold are thy works—in goodness and mercy hast thou made them all!”
Ostriches.
But I must not forget to say one thing more about Jack in this chapter. While he was studying the subject of birds, he was very fond of getting young ones, so that he might rear them; he also caught several old ones, which he kept in cages. Now I believe that certain birds may be happy in cages, such as canaries, and many others, that are bred in confinement; but to catch wild birds and shut them up, is treating the poor little creatures very cruelly. I would not, therefore, be thought to commend Jack’s example in this respect.
[To be continued.]
