There is a wonderful spirit of sociability in the brute creation. The congregating of gregarious birds in the winter is a remarkable instance of it. Many horses, though quiet with company, will not stay one minute in a field by themselves: the strongest fences cannot restrain them. My neighbor's horse will not only not stay by himself abroad, but he will not bear to be left alone in a strange stable without discovering the utmost impatience, and endeavoring to break the rack and manger with his fore-feet. He has been known to leap out at a stable window after company.

Oxen and cows will not fatten by themselves, but will neglect the finest pasture that is not recommended by society. It would be needless to instance sheep, which constantly flock together.

This propensity seems not to be confined to animals of the same species. We know a doe, still alive, that was brought up from a little fawn with a dairy of cows; with them it goes afield, and with them it returns to the yard. The dogs of the house take no notice of this deer, being used to her; but if strange dogs come by, a chase ensues. The master smiles to see his favorite securely leading her pursuers over hedge, or gate, or stile till she returns to the cows, who, with fierce lowings and

menacing horns, drive the assailants quite out of the pasture.

Even great disparity of kind and size does not always prevent social advances and mutual fellowship. For a very intelligent and observant person has assured me that in the former part of his life, keeping but one horse, he happened also to have but one solitary hen. These two incongruous animals spent much of their time together in a lonely orchard, where they saw no creature but each other.

By degrees, an apparent regard began to take place between these two sequestered individuals. The fowl would approach the quadruped with notes of complacency, rubbing herself gently against his legs, while the horse would look down with satisfaction, and move with the greatest caution and circumspection, lest he should trample on his diminutive companion. Thus, by mutual good offices, each seemed to console the vacant hours of the other.

I was much entertained last summer with a tame bat which would take flies out of a person's hand. If you gave it anything to eat, it brought its wings round before the mouth, hovering and hiding its head in the manner of birds of prey when they feed. The cleverness it showed in shearing off the wings of the flies, which were always rejected, was worthy of observation, and pleased me much.

Insects seemed to be most acceptable, though it did not refuse raw flesh when offered, so that the notion that bats go down chimneys and gnaw farmers' bacon seems no improbable story. While I amused myself with this wonderful quadruped, I saw it several times disprove the vulgar opinion

that bats, when down on a flat surface, cannot get on the wing again, by rising with great ease from the floor. It ran, I observed, with more dispatch than I was aware of, but in a most ridiculous and grotesque manner.

Bats drink on the wing, like swallows, by sipping the surface, as they play over pools and streams. They love to frequent waters, not only for the sake of drinking, but on account of insects, which are found over them in the greatest plenty. I had an opportunity of watching the motions of the fern-owl as it was playing round a large oak that swarmed with fern-chafers. The powers

of its wing were wonderful, exceeding, if possible, the various evolutions and quick turns of the swallow genus.

The circumstance that pleased me most was that I saw it distinctly more than once put out its short leg while on the wing, and by a bend of the head deliver somewhat into its mouth. If it takes any part of its prey with its foot, as I have now the greatest reason to suppose that it does to these chafers, I no longer wonder at the use of its middle toe, which is curiously furnished with a serrated, or saw-like claw.

There is no bird whose manners I have studied more. It is a wonderful and curious creature. Though sometimes it may chatter as it flies, yet, in general, it utters its jarring note sitting on a bough. I have for many a half-hour watched it as it sat with its under mandible quivering, and particularly this summer. It perches, usually, on a

bare twig, with its head lower than its tail.

It is most punctual in beginning its song exactly at the close of the day; so exactly that I

have known it strike up more than once or twice just at the report of the Portsmouth evening gun, which we can hear when the weather is still.

This bird is also called the nightjar; sometimes the goat-sucker, from a groundless notion formerly prevalent among farmers, that it was in the habit of sucking the goats, cows, and sheep. Its cry has been compared to that of the larger beetles of the night, but, of course, it is much louder, and is accompanied by the peculiar Chur-r-r!-Chur-r-r! to which it owes its name of Churn-owl.

GILBERT WHITE.

Spell and pronounce :—apparent, caution, mutual, quadruped, assailants, chimneys, prevalent, sequestered, incongruous, evolutions, grotesque, propensity, menacing, ridiculous, jarring, and pursuer.

Synonyms. — disparity — inequality; unlikeness; dissimilitude; disproportion. apparent-visible; distinct; plain; obvious; clear; certain; evident; indubitable; notorious. circumspection — caution; watchfulness; deliberation; thoughtfulness; wariness; forecast. caution - care; forethought; forecast; heed; prudence; watchfulness; vigilance; circumspection; anxiety; providence ; counsel; advice; warning; admonition. incongruous - inconsistent; unsuitable; unsuited; inappropriate; unfit; improper.

LESSON LXXXVIII.

pa trician, a person of high birth.

Cæ şä'ri an, pertaining to Cæsar. goal, the point set to bound a race.

THE CHARIOT RACE.

When the dash for position began, Ben-Hur was on the extreme left of the six. For a moment, like the others, he was half blinded by the light in the arena; yet he managed to catch sight of his antagonists and divine their purpose.

At Messala, who was more than an antagonist to him, he gave one searching look. The air of passionate hauteur characteristic of the fine patrician face was there as of old, and so was the Italian beauty, which the helmet rather increased; but more-it may have been a jealous fancy, or the effect of the brassy shadow in which the features were at the moment cast, still the Israelite thought he saw the soul of the man as through a glass, darkly cruel, cunning; desperate; not so excited as determined-a soul in a tension of watchfulness and fierce resolve.

In a time not longer than was required to turn his four again, Ben-Hur felt his own resolution harden to a like temper. At whatever cost, at all hazards, he would humble this enemy! Prize, friends, wagers, honor-everything that can be thought of as a possible interest in the race was lost in the one deliberate purpose. Regard for life even should not hold him back. Yet there was no passion, on his part; no blinding rush of heated blood from heart to brain, and back again; no impulse to fling himself upon Fortune. He did not believe in Fortune; far otherwise. He had his plans, and, confiding in himself, he settled to the task never more observant, never more capable. The air about him seemed aglow with a renewed and perfect transparency.

When not half-way across the arena, he saw that Messala's rush would, if there was no collision and the rope fell, give him the wall; that the rope would fall, he ceased as soon to doubt; and, further, it came to him-a sudden flash-like insight,—that Messala knew it was to be let drop at the last moment (pre-arrangement with the editor could safely