this lasted he was sacred from injury; the very school-boy would not fling a stone at him, and the merest rustic would pause to listen to his strain. 7. But mark the difference. As the year advances, as the clover-blossoms disappear, and the spring fades into summer, he gradually gives up his elegant tastes and habits, doffs his poetical suit of black, assumes a russet, dusty garb, and sinks to the gross enjoyment of common, vulgar birds. His notes no longer vibrate on the ear; he is stuffing himself with the seeds of the tall weeds on which he lately swung and chanted so melodiously. He has become a bon vivant, a gourmand: with him now there is nothing like the "joys of the table." In a little while he grows tired of plain, homely fare, and is off on a gastronomic tour in quest of foreign luxuries. 8. We next hear of him, with myriads of his kind, banqueting among the reeds of the Delaware, and grown corpulent with good feeding. He has changed his name in traveling. Boblincoln no more, he is the reed-bird now, the much-sought-for tidbit of Pennsylvanian epicures, the rival in unlucky fame of the ortolan! Wherever he goes, pop! pop! pop! every rusty firelock in the country is blazing away. He sees his companions falling by thousands around him. Does he take warning and reform? Alas! not he. Again he wings his flight. The riceswamps of the south invite him. He gorges himself among them almost to bursting; he can scarcely fly for corpulency. He has once more changed his name, and is now the famous rice-bird of the Carolinas. Last stage of his career behold him spitted, with dozens of his corpulent companions, and served up, a vaunted dish, on some southern table. 9. Such is the story of the bobolink; once spiritual, musical, admired, the joy of the meadows, and the favorite bird of spring; finally, a gross little sensualist, who expiates his sensuality in the larder. His story contains a moral worthy the attention of all little birds and little boys; warning them to keep to those refined and intellectual pursuits which raised him to so high a pitch of popularity during the early part of his career, but to eschew all tendency to that gross and dissipated indulgence which brought this mistaken little bird to an untimely end. -From Irving's "Birds of Spring." DEFINITIONS. 2. En-ăm'eled, coated with a smooth, glossy surface. 3. Sen-si-bil'i-ty, feeling. 4. Mewed, shut up. 5. Vär let, a rascal. Versed, familiar, practiced. 6. Vo-lupt'u-a-ry, one who makes his bodily enjoyment his chief object. 7. Bon vi-vant (French, pro. bon vẽ-vän'), one who lives well. Gour-mand (French, pro. gōor'män), a glutton. Gas-tro-nom'ie, relating to the science of good eating. 8. Côr'pu-lent, fleshy, fat. Ep'i-eure, one who indulges in the luxuries of the table. Väunt'ed, boasted. 9. Ex'pi-ātes, atones for. Lärd'er, a pantry. Es-chew', to shun. NOTES.-5. John Logan (b. 1748, d. 1788). A Scotch writer of note. His writings include dramas, poetry, history, and essays. 8. The ortolan is a small bird, abundant in southern Europe, Cyprus, and Japan. They are fattened for the table, and are considered a great delicacy. XL. ROBERT OF LINCOLN. 1. MERRILY Swinging on brier and weed, "Bob-o-link, bob-o-link, Spink, spank, spink, Snug and safe is that nest of ours, Hidden among the summer flowers. Chee, chee, chee." 2. Robert of Lincoln is gayly dressed, Wearing a bright black wedding-coat; Spink, spank, spink, Look what a nice new coat is mine; 3. Robert of Lincoln's Quaker wife, Pretty and quiet, with plain brown wings, Passing at home a patient life, Broods in the grass while her husband sings: "Bob-o-link, bob-o-link, Spink, spank, spink, Brood, kind creature; you need not fear Chee, chee, chee." 4. Modest and shy as a nun is she, Spink, spank, spink, Never was I afraid of man, Catch me, cowardly knaves, if you can. 5. Six white eggs on a bed of hay, Nice good wife that never goes out, 6. Soon as the little ones chip the shell, This new life is likely to be Hard for a gay young fellow like me. 7. Robert of Lincoln at length is made "Bob-o-link, bob-o-link, Spink, spank, spink, Nobody knows but my mate and I Chee, chee, chee." 8. Summer wanes; the children are grown; When you can pipe that merry old strain, Robert of Lincoln come back again. Chee, chee, chee." -William Cullen Bryant. XLI. REBELLION IN MASSACHUSETTS STATE-PRISON. 1. A MORE impressive exhibition of moral courage, opposed to the wildest ferocity under the most appalling circumstances, was never seen than that which was witnessed by the officers of our state-prison, in the rebellion which occurred some years since. 2. Three convicts had been sentenced, under the rules of the prison, to be whipped in the yard, and, by some effort of one of the other prisoners, a door had been opened at midday communicating with the great dining-hall and, through the warden's lodge, with the street. 3. The dining-hall was long, dark, and damp, from its situation near the surface of the ground; and in this all the prisoners assembled, with clubs and such other tools as they could seize in passing through the workshops. 4. Knives, hammers, and chisels, with every variety of such weapons, were in the hands of the ferocious spirits, who are drawn away from their encroachments on society, forming a congregation of strength, vileness, and talent that can hardly be equaled on earth, even among the famed brigands of Italy. 5. Men of all ages and characters, guilty of every variety of infamous crime, dressed in the motley and peculiar garb of the institution, and displaying the wild and demoniac appearance that always pertains to imprisoned wretches, were gathered together for the single purpose of preventing the punishment which was to be inflicted on the morrow upon their comrades. 6. The warden, the surgeon, and some other officers of the prison were there at the time, and were alarmed at the consequences likely to ensue from the conflict necessary to restore order. They huddled together, and could scarcely be said to consult, as the stoutest among them lost all presence of mind in overwhelming fear. The news |