the young eaglets' daily portion. In order to prolong the attention of the parent birds to their voracious young ones beyond the usual period, he clipt the wings of the eaglets, and thus prevented their departure from the nest. As soon as they have sufficient strength of wing to go in search of prey and provide for their own wants, the old birds have fulfilled all the parental duties which nature requires of them, and dismiss their eaglets to seek their fortunes on some distant mountain, where they too may "make their nest on high, and abide on the crag of the rock." 66 High from the summit of a craggy cliff, Many anecdotes are related of the rapacity of this bird, in seizing, and carrying to his nest in triumph, young children left unguarded in the neighbourhood of his haunts. These are so well known, that we are disposed to pass them by, and give our readers, in their place, a narrative of a more unusual nature, which exibits the eagle not as the agressor and the conqueror, but as the victim and the prey of an enemy, who seems little fitted by nature to gain an advantage over him. We are indebted for the followinw particulars, to a writer in the Magazine of Natural History. 66 "A group of hay-makers, while busy at their work on Chapel-hope meadow, at the upper end of St. Mary's Loch in Selkirkshire, saw an eagle rising above the steep mountains that enclose the narrow valley. The eagle himself was, indeed, no unusual sight: but there is something so imposing and majestic in the flight of this noble bird while he soars upwards in spiral circles, that it fascinates the attention of most people. In general, the motion of his wings is hardly perceptible: an impetus is given, but the stroke is far between, and he seems impelled by some invisible power. The spectators were soon aware of something peculiar in the flight of the bird they were observing: he used his wings violently, and the strokes were often repeated, as if he had been alarmed and hurried by unusual agitation. They noticed, at the same time, that he wheeled in circles that seemed constantly decreasing, while his ascent was proportionably rapid. The now idle hay-makers drew together in close consultation on the singular case, and continued to keep their eyes on the seemingly distressed eagle, until he was nearly out of sight, rising still higher and higher in the air. In a short while, however, they were all convinced that he was again seeking the earth, evidently not as he ascended, in spiral curves: it was like something falling, and with great rapidity. As he approached the ground, they clearly saw he was trembling in his fall like a shot bird. The convulsive fluttering of his wings stopped the descent but very little, until he fell at a small distance from the men and boys of the party, who had naturally run forward, highly excited by this strange occurrence. A large black-tailed weasel or stoat, ran from under the body as they came near, turned with the usual nonchalance and impudence of the tribe, stood up upon its hind legs, crossed its fore-paws over its nose, surveyed its enemy a moment or two, (as they often do when no dog is near,) and bounded into a saugh bush. The king of the air was dead; and what was more surprising, he was covered with his own blood. Upon further examination, they found his throat cut; and the stoat has been suspected as the regicide unto this day. This singular story I always looked upon as too good to be true, until lately a friend mentioned the following fact, which came under his own observation. A light snow covered the ground, and he, having walked out to an adjoining hill to meet one of his shepherds, fell in with the track of one of these weasels, which is easily to be distinguished from that of the smaller species, by the larger foot print and length of the spring, among the snow. He followed the track for some time, for his amusement, along the side of the hill, until he came to the marks where a pair of grouse had been sitting, when he lost all traces of the weasel. As there was no appearance of a hole, he was much surprised, and paying close attention to the track of the animal, he came to be convinced that it had sprung upon one of the birds, which had flown away with it. As he is a person of uncommonly acute observation and strong sense, I have the utmost confidence in the correctness of his judgment. The conclusion is, that the stoat knew quite well what it was about, and would keep its hold until it came to the ground again, under similar circumstances with the eagle. The matchless agility and comparative strength of this bold little creature, would enable it to save itself during its falls before which took place, it had probably, as in the former instance, destroyed the life of its more harmless prey." Trained up as we have been, in the ardent love of liberty, and a reverence for its name, we were early taught to extend our abhorrence of captivity to the poor birds and other animals, which children are often permitted to cage and fetter at their will. The consequence is, that even now we have little charity for bird-catchers, and little sympathy with bird-keepers; but of all the imprisoned birds we have ever seen, none have appeared to us so forlorn and melancholy as a caged eagle—a monarch in captivity. THE IMPRISONED EAGLE. Oh! 'twas a mean and dastard thing Break, break, the kingly eagle's chain, His powerful wing that nature gave, |