attached to his body enables him to give signals that he may be raised, lowered, or shifted from place to place. Remarkable, indeed, is the dexterity of these fowlers. Placing their feet against the front of the rock, often two hundred fathoms in height, they will dash themselves to a considerable distance from it, mark the place where the birds nestle, and discharge their guns into their haunts. When the birds lodge in deep recesses, the fowlers will alight, detach themselves from the rope, collect their booty at their leisure, fasten it to their girdles, and resume their seats. Many bird-catchers go on these expeditions without any companion to hold the rope or assist them. It was on such a solitary excursion, that a man, having fastened his rope to a stake on the top, let himself down far below; and, in his ardour for collecting birds and eggs, followed the course of a ledge, beneath a mass of overhanging rock. Unfortunately he had omitted to take the usual care to tie the rope round his body, but held it carelessly in his hand; when, in a luckless moment, as he was busily engaged in robbing a nest, it slipped from his grasp; and, after swinging backwards and forwards three or four times, without coming within his reach, at last became stationary over the ledge of the projecting rock, leaving the bird-catcher apparently without a chance of escape. To ascend the precipice without a rope was impossible, and no one was near to hear his cries or to afford him help. What was to be done? Death stared him in the face. After a few minutes' pause, he made up his mind. By a desperate leap he might regain the rope; but if he failed—and, at the distance at which it hung, the chances were against him-his death was certain amidst the pointed crags ready to receive him, over which the waves were dashing far, far below. Collecting, therefore, all his strength, with outstretched arms he sprang from the rock, and lived to tell the tale-for the rope was caught! Another fact occurred at St. Kilda, where, among other modes of catching the sea-fowl, that of setting gins or nooses is adopted. They are fixed in various places frequented by the birds. In one of these, set upon a ledge a hundred and twenty feet above the sea, a bird-catcher entangled his foot, and not being at the moment aware of it, was, on moving onwards, tripped up and thrown over the rock, where he hung suspended. He, too, as in the preceding case, had no companion, and, to add to his misfortune, darkness was at hand, leaving little prospect of his being discovered till morning. In vain he exerted himself to bend upwards, so as to reach the noose or grapple the rock. After a few fruitless efforts, his strength was exhausted; and in this dreadful situation, expecting that the noose might give way every instant, did he pass a long night. At early dawn, happily, his shouts were heard by a neighbour, who rescued him from his perilous position. -British Birds. St. David's.-A small town, and also a promontory in the west of Pembrokeshire in Wales. Hebrides.—The name given to a large cluster of islands that line the western coast of Scotland. They are commonly divided into the Inner and the Outer Hebrides. They are much frequented by sea-fowl. The Faroe Islands.—A group of small islands lying to the north of Shetland, belonging to Denmark. St. Kilda.-The most westerly point of Great Britain. A small island placed "far amid the melancholy main outside the Hebrides. Thousands of sea-fowl frequent the island. QUESTIONS:-1. Where is the gull generally found? 2. Where do gulls breed? 3. How are their haunts reached? 4. What danger attends gull hunting? 5. Give examples of this danger. 6. Mention the various places spoken of in the lesson, and tell where they are. 7. What is a fowler? 8. What is a gin ? LESSON IX. The Electric Telegraph. [The following graphic narrative illustrates in a striking manner the use of the telegraph in detecting crime. The name of the murderer was John Tawell.] ap-pal'-ling, dreadful, filling one with fear. cad, the conductor of an omnibus. con-sec'-u-tive-ly, following one after the other. pro'-bab-ly, likely, perhaps. HE no doubt appreciated the speed-valued the wings with which he was flying. He probably felt that no power on earth could overtake him, and that, if he could but dive into the mass of population in London, he would in perfect security flow with its streams unnoticed. Whatever may have been his fears-his hopes his fancies-or his thoughts-there suddenly flashed along the wires of the electric telegraph, which were stretched close beside him, the following words:"A murder has just been committed at Salthill, and the suspected murderer was seen to take a first-class ticket for London by the train which left Slough at 7h. 42m. P.M. He is in the garb of a Quaker, with a brown greatcoat on, which reaches nearly down to his feet. He is in the last compartment of the second first-class carriage." And yet, fast as these words flew like lightning past him, the information they contained, with all its details, as well as every secret thought that had preceded them, had already consecutively flown millions of times faster; indeed, at the very instant that, within the walls of the little cottage at Slough, there had been uttered that dreadful scream, it had simultaneously reached the judgment-seat of heaven! On arriving at the Paddington Station, after mingling for some moments with the crowd, he got into an omnibus, and as it rumbled along, taking up one passenger and putting down another, he probably felt that his identity was every minute becoming confounded and confused by the exchange of fellow-passengers for strangers that was constantly taking place. But all the time he was thinking, the cad of the omnibusa policeman in disguise-knew that he held his victim like a rat in a cage. Without, however, apparently taking the slightest notice of him, he took one sixpence, gave change for a shilling, handed out this lady, stuffed in that one, until, arriving at the Bank, the guilty man, stooping as he walked towards the carriage-door, descended the steps; paid his fare; crossed over to the Duke of Wellington's statue, where pausing for a few moments, anxiously to gaze around him, he proceeded to the Jerusalem Coffee-house, thence over London Bridge to the Leopard Coffee-house in the Borough, and finally to a lodging-house in Scott's Yard, Cannon Street. He probably fancied that, by making so many turns and doubles, he had not only effectually puzzled all pursuit, but that his appearance at so many coffee-houses would assist him, if necessary, in proving an alibi; but, whatever may have been his motives or his thoughts, he had scarcely entered the lodging when the policeman-who, like a wolf, had followed him every step of the way-opening his door, very calmly said to himthe words no doubt were infinitely more appalling to him even than the scream that had been haunting him—“Haven't you just come from |