was faithful at His need, to Him who said, 'Suffer little children to come unto Me.'"

The labourer in the garden or field, and the woodman in the forest, are seldom unattended by the Robin, on the alert for insect or worm. In our gardens at the break of day its wild but melancholy song may now be heard. Slight observation will be sufficient to show that the Robin does not hold "peace at any price principles"-any intruder in the district assumed, is immediately attacked. We have often noticed it perching with the Sparrows on the window sill, without showing hostility; though on such occasions the Sparrows are evidently shy of too close quarters; but let another Robin appear, and a fight commences. "When Greek meets Greek, then comes the tug of war." Few birds are more pugnacious than the Robin. A writer in the Magazine of Natural History, some years since, related the following anecdote :-Observing a Robin in a tree near his residence, he placed a stuffed specimen in the window sill, and almost immediately the living bird attacked the specimen so violently as to throw it from the window, following it in the descent and continuing the attack to the ground. When the stuffed bird had been removed, the victor expanded his wings and, moving about, began to pour forth a defiant song of victory.

JANUARY 3RD.

THE FOX.--(Canis Vulpes.)

Right merrily the huntsman winds
The horn along the vale,

And echo to the neighbouring hills

Imparts the gladsome tale.-Old Song.

THAT model British foxhunter, Thomas Assheton Smith, used to say, that the "Woods began to strip for business in November." It is, however, in December and the present month that the sport usually reaches its greatest activity. Whatever arguments may be brought forward against the sport, there can be no doubt of its great value to the class to which it naturally belongs. A recent writer has observed that it gives hardihood, nerve, intrepidity, and confirms and prolongs the vigour of manhood, giving to those who practice the chase

"A cheek of jolly blush-
A claret tint laid on by health,

With Master Reynard's brush:"

The Fox is the most cunning and sagacious of our wild animals. It is more plentiful than is supposed, from the strictness with which it is preserved; but from its extreme shyness it is rarely observed, except when roused for the chase. Occasionally it may be seen stealing through the fern or along the edge of the copse, or possibly crouched close to the ground, watching the exit of the rabbit from its burrow.

The Quarterly Review of 1832 states that the first public notice of this now much esteemed animal of chase occurs in the reign of that unfortunate monarch Richard II., who gave permission by royal charter to the Abbot of Peterborough to hunt the Fox.

The animal must have been exceeding plentiful in Scotland in the last century. Loch says that the gentlemen of Sutherlandshire offered rewards for the destruction of birds and beasts of prey, and that according to the accounts kept, no less than 1,660 foxes and 110 cubs were killed from 1769 to 1777. Before this extensive battue no farmer dared risk a single sheep out at night.

The Fox is a well-formed animal, with reddish fur, broad head, sharp nose, and bushy tail; the senses of sight, smelling, and hearing, are most exquisite. It has great power of enduring fatigue, having been known to run fifty miles at a stretch. It preys upon lambs, poultry, game, &c., and has an especial fondness for grapes, often causing great annoyance to the keepers of the vineyards of France.

It has been celebrated in all ages for its wiles and adroitness in escaping from danger. A volume of examples might easily be collected. On one occasion, when sorely pressed, Reynard leaped on to the roof of a cabin and mounted to the chimneypot; here he awaited the approach of the hounds, and then suddenly rolled down the chimney into the lap of an old woman smoking her pipe in the chimney corner. Under great alarm the old woman shook the "black deil" from her, who lost no time in escaping through the cabin door, and for that time baffled his pursuers.

JANUARY 4TH.

SCREW MOSS.-(Tortula.)

"The silken moss,

That clothes the time-worn walls."

is one of our commonest mosses; it may be seen growing in tufts out of the mortar and on the top of nearly every roadside wall, clothing it with a mantle of rich golden brown.

Mosses are among the smallest of our plants; they are the pioneers of vegetable life, springing from the naked rock or wall, where no other vegetation can exist; and although frequently so minute as scarcely to be recognised except in the mass, they present us with some of the most elegant structures of vegetable growth, and form an exceedingly interesting part of the works of nature. First we notice a green film-like stain creeping over the naked rock; soon the microscopic plant commences to clothe itself with true leaves, becoming a tuft of bright green, and from the mass of plants soon rise the delicate seed-urns of rich brown. A small pocket-glass will reveal the curious structure and development of the plant. In nearly every tuft may be noticed plants in their several stages of growth; in some the brown urn will be seen covered with a conical hood, which has been likened to the caps worn by the peasant women of Normandy; in other plants the cap has fallen off, and a delicate fringe of bright red is seen protruding from the edges of the urn; in damp weather this becomes curiously twisted, like a corkscrew-hence called "screw moss," of which there are some twenty varieties. This fringe is intended for the protection of the minute seeds stored in the fairy urn. When the atmosphere is dry it expands, to permit light and air to the seeds; in rainy or moist weather the fringe is securely twisted over the top of the urn. Breathe upon the expanded fringe, and it will instantly close, to protect the seed from the moisture of the breath; thus

"We trace in Nature's most minute design

The signature and stamp of power divine."

By the aid of mosses the surfaces of rocks are gradually clothed with vegetation-the growth and decay of successive myriads of plants produce sufficient vegetable mould from which grasses and other plants spring.

JANUARY 5TH.

THE COMMON WREN.-(Troglodytes Europeus.)

IN the hedgerows, and around the cottages and farms, as well as in the shrubberies and gardens, may now be noticed that diminutive but lively warbler, the Common Wren, the smallest of our birds; it is a familiar little fellow, and evidently desires the friendship of man, protection having created confidence. The plumage is very plain, closely resembling the russet brown of the withered leaves and herbage. The bird has a curious mode of flitting along, the tail raised up and the wings drooping, as it threads through the hedge bottoms and emerges at the top of the hedgerow, then flitting onward for a few paces and repeating the same process; seeking its insect food with great industry. As it creeps along the bank you may easily. mistake it for a mouse. If, however, the wintry sunbeams break through the clouds, our little warbler seeks some convenient recess in the hollow of a tree, or amid the ivy, and welcomes the cheering rays with its powerful and sweetly varied song.

Our village lads usually protect the Robin and Wren; sometimes the latter is hunted, as it is not difficult to tire it down; but usually, in country villages, the wren is considered sacred. Mr. Hall states that in some parts of Ireland it is a favourite pastime to hunt the Wren on Christmas Day, and to exhibit the slaughtered birds, decked with flowers, on St. Stephen's Day, to the chant of "The wren, the wren, the king of all birds." It is a curious fact that in many languages the Wren is designated "King bird," possibly from one of its kindred (the crested wren) wearing a golden crown. The nest of the Wren is most admirably constructed. Wordsworth states that "Among the dwellings framed by birds, In field or forest, with nice care, Is none that with the little Wren's In snugness may compare."

The nest is in the form of a hollow globe with narrow entrance, the exterior covered with green moss, grey lichen, or withered grass, so as to exactly match the surrounding tints; its discovery is indeed most difficult without a careful watch of the parent bird. Our severe seasons

"The long-protracted rigour of the year,"

often prove very destructive to these little warblers by cutting off their supply of food, and also by their then falling victims to the voracity of other birds.

JANUARY 6TH.

GROUNDSEL. (Senecio Vulgaris.)

THIS is one of our commonest wayside weeds-it may be deemed by some as unworthy of the briefest observation. The plant is, however, interesting from the fact that no severity of weather appears to be sufficient to retard its bloom; hence it has been called the "everlasting Groundsel." We have noticed that even when the thermometer stood at 10.22, the plant still continued to hang out its drooping yellow blossoms, and to scatter its winged seeds on the icy blast. We may also view it with favour from another point, as supplying food to so many of our birds in seasons when almost every other resource is cut off. In time of snow the Goldfinch has been observed to scratch down to the plant, and feed upon its seed and leaves, so that the woodland music of the spring may often be dependent upon this common weed.

Groundsel is rarely found on uncultivated lands-it appears to follow the footsteps of civilization, for wherever any European settlement has been effected the plant springs up. The provision made for the distribution of the seed is so effective, that even the sharp-sighted and swift-winged birds are defeated, for a due proportion of seed is driven by the blast into slight crannies, where it speedily vegetates. The remedies of the herbalist have, to a considerable extent, become obsolete, yet there still lingers in our bye ways and sequestered villages a large amount of faith in "simples," and a decoction of Groundsel is often prescribed by the village notable as "good for all kinds of sores," and wonderfully efficacious in the healing of chapped hands. Withering says, a strong infusion of the plant excites vomiting, and the bruised leaves are a good application to boils. Hill states, "that the fresh roots smelled to when first taken out of the ground are an immediate cure for the head ache."