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THE SIASIN, OR ANTELOPE OF INDIA.

The Siasin, or Antelope of India, roams over the open and rocky plains of that immense country. It is distinguished from the rest of its family by the beauty and singular shape of its horns, which are annulated or ringed, and spirally convoluted or curved together, making two or more turns, according to the age of the animal. The fakirs and dervishes of India, who are enjoined by their religion from carrying swords, frequently wear at their girdles the polished horns of the siasin instead of the usual military arm. This antelope is one of the fleetest-footed of its family, and its leap is something wonderful. It is not uncommon for it to vault to the height of twelve or thirteen feet, passing over ten or twelve yards at a single bound. In color it is almost black on the upper part of the body, and light-colored beneath. When full grown, it is about the size of our common deer.

THE COMMON SNIPE.

These birds frequent swampy woods, marshes, morasses, and the borders of rivers. Their usual time for seeking their food is early in the morning and during the twilight of the evening. They subsist principally upon insects and worms; for these they search among the decayed leaves, and probe the mud and ooze with their lengthened bills. When alarmed, they generally lie close to the ground, or among the grass, or, suddenly starting on the wing, escape by flight, which is short but elevated, rapid, and irregular. The eggs, which are four in number, are deposited on the ground. In the snipe, and all its immediate allies, the bill is thickened, soft, and very tender at its extremity; so that this part, which is richly supplied with nerves, serves as a delicate organ of touch, and is used for searching in the soft ground for the insects and worms that constitute the food of these birds.

D--THE DOE.

Graceful and gentle is the Doe; Its tawny coat how sleek! How bright yet tender are its eyes! Its glance how softly meek!

E--THE EAGLE.

Upon the lonely mountain peak The eagle builds her nest, And there, when weary of the chase, In silence takes her rest.

The Fox will skulk in ferny brake, Yet loves the haunts of men; And prowls around the farm, to pounce On capon, goose, or hen.

MRS. BUNNY AND FAMILY.

This wild Rabbit has been startled by some noise, and the next moment she may be scampering away to her burrow, with the little bunnies, at the top of their speed, and crouch there until all is quiet again. Rabbits usually select, if possible, a sandy soil overgrown with furze, in which to make their burrows, as such a soil is easily removed, and the dense prickly furze hides their retreat, whilst it affords them a wholesome and never-failing food. These furze bushes are constantly eaten down, as far as the rabbits can reach standing on their hind legs, and consequently present the appearance of a solid mass with the surface even and rounded. These animals retire into their burrows by day to rest, and come out only in the twilight to obtain food.

The lynx in the picture is in the act of springing upon a timid hare. Although he can measure twenty paces in a jump, I think for once he has made a misstep, and the dear little creature with one more bound will be safe. One very remarkable fact about these animals is this: if there are several together, and one starts over the snow in pursuit of booty, all the others will follow in exactly the same tracks, so that it will look as if but one lynx had passed over the snow-covered earth.

THE SWAN AND THE DRAKE.

Slowly, in majestic silence, Sailed a Swan upon a lake; Round about him, never quiet, Swam a noisy quacking Drake.

"Swan," exclaimed the latter, halting, "I can scarcely comprehend Why I never hear you talking: Are you really dumb, my friend?"

Said the Swan, by way of answer: "I have wondered, when you make Such a shocking, senseless clatter, Whether you are deaf, Sir Drake!"

Better, like the Swan, remain in Silence grave and dignified, Than keep, drake-like, ever prating, While your listeners deride.

W. R. E.

THE BEAVER.

This industrious animal is generally found in Canada and the northern portions of the United States, where it makes its home on the banks of the rivers and lakes. Here they assemble in hundreds to assist each other in the construction of their dams, and in the building of their houses, which are put together with a considerable amount of engineering skill. The materials used in building the dams are wood, stones, and mud, which they collect themselves for that purpose, and after finishing the dam, or winter storehouse, they collect their stores for the winter's use, and then make a connection with their houses in the banks. Their skins are valuable in making fine hats, and their flesh is much relished by the hunters. The beaver is an interesting animal in many respects, and the expression "busy as a beaver" is borne out by its habits.

LIONESS AND CUBS.

The lioness is much smaller than the lion, and her form is more slender and graceful. She is devoid of the mane of her lord and master, and has four or five cubs at a birth, which are all born blind. The young lions are at first obscurely striped and spotted. They mew like cats, and are as playful as kittens. As they get older, the uniform color is gradually assumed. The mane appears in the males at the end of ten or twelve months, and at the age of eighteen months it is very considerably developed, and they begin to roar. Both in nature and in a state of captivity the lioness is very savage as soon as she becomes a mother, and the lion himself is then most to be dreaded, as he will then brave almost any risk for the sake of his lioness and family.

A PET JACK.

The first fish I ever saw in an aquarium, twenty years ago, was a "Jack," as he is called when young, or a "Pike," when he grows older; and ever since then I have contrived to have a pet one, and this, drawn from life by Mr. Harrison Weir, is an accurate portrait of the one I now possess in the Crystal Palace Aquarium. There he is, just as he steals round the corner of a bit of rock. He is glaring at a minnow, at which he is taking most accurate aim; he hardly seems to move, but yet he does by a very trifling motion of the edge of his back fin--sometimes resting a little on the tips of his two foremost fins, as they touch the ground, carefully calculating his distance; and then, at the very moment when the minnow has got into a position which leaves a space of clear water in front, so that Mr. Jack shall not hurt his nose against any hard substance when he gets carried on by the violence of his rush, he darts at the minnow with the speed of Shakspeare's Puck:--

"I go, I go! look, how I go! Swifter than arrow from the Tartar's bow."

THE SWALLOW'S NEST.

Often in former years the twitter of the birds glittering in the morning sun was the first sound that met my ear during the wakeful hours which frequently accompany illness after the worst crisis has passed, and you are recovering by degrees. The gutters ran beneath my bedroom windows, and I could see the steel-blue backs of the swallows as they sat on the rims of the gutter, twisting their little heads, opening their yellow-lined beaks, singing to their hearts' content. Whole families would perch there together, or the young would rest in rows of four or five, according to the nest-broods of each. How delightful to see them fed by their agile parents! how tantalizing to have them almost within reach of my hands, yet not to be able to catch them or give them a kiss, as they would cower in my hollow hands if I only could have got them in there!

THE BRAVE DOG OF ST. BERNARD.

Where the St. Bernard Pass climbs up Amid the Alpine snows, The far-famed Hospice crowns the heights With shelter and repose.

Its inmates, with their faithful dogs, Are truly friends in need When snowdrifts block the traveler's way, And blinding storms mislead.

Brave "Barry," once, far down the track That crossed a glacier steep, Found buried deep beneath the snow A poor boy, fast asleep.

He licked the cold, numb hands and face To warmth and life once more, And bore him safely on his back Up to the Hospice door.

G--THE GIRAFFE.

H--THE HYENA.

I--THE ICHNEUMON.

MOTHER-DEER AND BABY.

Something has startled them, as they fed securely enough, one would think, on the grass at the foot of the rocks; and if we could only get a little nearer, this is what we should hear the mother-deer saying to her baby: "My child, I am sure there is danger about; look out and tell me if you see the slightest movement on the hill yonder, or if I see it first, I will give you the signal, and you must follow me, and run for your very life." And the baby, with cocked ears and glistening eyes, promises to do as it is told. But after all it will probably prove a false alarm, for this is not the time of year for deerstalking; and I dare say the noise they heard was made by a party of people coming up the valley below to see the waterfall, which is famous in the neighborhood.

WHOOPING CRANE.

The Whooping Crane is much larger than the common crane, which it otherwise much resembles except in color; its plumage, in its adult state, is pure white, the tips of the wings black. He spends the winter in the southern parts of North America, and in summer migrates far northwards. The crane feeds on roots, seeds, etc., as well as on reptiles, worms, insects, and on some of the smaller quadrupeds. They journey in flocks from fifty to a hundred, and rise to an immense height in the air, uttering their loud harsh cries, and occasionally alighting to seek food in fields or marshes; and when they descend on a field they do sad havoc to the crops, several doing sentinel duty while the majority are feeding. In general it is a very peaceful bird, both in its own society and those of the forest.

THE ELK.

This is the largest existing species of the deer family, and is a native of the northern parts of Europe, Asia, and Africa. It grows to be six feet high and twelve hundred pounds in weight. They are very rare in Europe and this country, but at one time they extended as far south as the Ohio River. They love the woods and marshy places, and live off of the branches of trees, being unable to eat grass unless they get upon their knees. They are very timid, and not easily approached by the hunter, but should a dog come in the way, one stroke from an elk's foot will kill it. Many of the parents of our little friends in Maine and Canada are, no doubt, familiar with the elk and its habits.

TOYS FOR ANIMALS.

The "Daily News" says: "Our readers have often doubtless observed appeals in the papers for toys for sick children. We hear that a naturalist who feels much for animals is struck with the cruelty of leaving the creatures at the 'Zoo' without anything to play with. This gentleman had in his possession a young otter, for whom he made a wooden ball, to the extreme delight of his pet, who used to divert his simple instinct with it for whole hours at a stretch. Following up the idea, the same gentleman presented the elephants and rhinoceroses in the Zoological Gardens with globes for diversion suited to their sizes, but it seems the elephants took to playing ball so furiously, that 'there was danger of their houses being swept down altogether; so they were forbidden to use them indoors.' The polar bear was given a toy which, we are told, 'amuses him immensely.'"

THE SUCKING-PIG.

The other day our children came home delighted at having seen a little pig drinking out of a bottle, just like a baby. I went to see it, and I was introduced to its owner, who lived in a cottage, the principal room of which was painted light blue. A good-natured old woman was there with her two orphan grand-children. The red tiles of the cottage floor were enlivened by a gray-and-white cat, and a shiny-skinned little pig, of about a month old, which was fed out of a feeding-bottle. This was the hero of the place.

The little pig is grateful for good treatment, and as capable of attachment as a horse or a dog. The pig is intelligent, and it can be taught tricks. Performing pigs are often the attractions of country fairs. I have seen pigs in the poor neighborhoods of London follow their masters through noisy streets, and into busy public-houses, where they laid down at their masters' feet like a dog.

BELL-RINGERS.

When a child, my father took me to see some feats performed by some traveling cats. They were called "the bell-ringers," and were respectively named Jet, Blanche, Tom, Mop, and Tib.

Five bells were hung at regular intervals on a round hoop erected on a sort of stage. A rope was attached to each bell after the manner of church bells. At a given signal from their master, they all sprang to their feet, and at a second signal, each advanced to the ropes, and standing on their hind feet, stuck their front claws firmly into the ropes, which were in that part covered with worsted, or something of the kind, so as to give the claws a firmer hold. There was a moment's pause--then No. 1 pulled his or her rope, and so sounded the largest bell; No. 2 followed, then No. 3, and so on, till a regular peal was rung with almost as much precision and spirit as though it were human hands instead of cats' claws that effected it.

THE GUINEA-PIG.

The Guinea-pig is a native of South America, and is remarkable for the beauty and variety of its colors, and the neatness of its appearance. These little pets are very careful in keeping themselves and their offspring neat and tidy, and may be frequently seen smoothing and dressing their fur, somewhat in the manner of a cat. After having smoothed and dressed each other's fur, both turn their attention to their young, from whose coats they remove the smallest speck of dirt, at the same time trying to keep their hair smooth and unruffled. The Guinea-pig feeds on bread, grain, fruit, vegetables, tea leaves, and especially garden parsley, to which it is very partial. It generally gives birth to seven and eight young at a time, and they very soon are able to take care of themselves.

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