natives, however, by imitating the notes of the male bird, can generally draw them from their cover, and in this way kill great numbers. The yearly advent of these birds is looked upon by the Samoans as a matter of considerable importance. It is thus that they get their supplies of animal food, which before the advent of the Whites were probably derived entirely from this source. When in season these wild pigeons are excellent eating, especially if cooked in the native manner- that is, wrapped in banana-leaves and baked in an oven of heated stones.

Of all Samoan birds, however, that which merits most attention is the celebrated moa. This species was accidentally discovered only a few years ago in the mountains of Upolu. The discovery threw all the zoologists and ornithologists both of the old and new worlds into a flutter of excitement. Museums and collectors vied with each other in efforts to obtain the strange bird; while for any specimen that should be brought alive to Europe a fabulous sum was offered. The cause of all this excitement will at once be understood, when it is stated that in this moa was found a bird very nearly identical with the extinct dodo. The species it was thought had long disappeared from the face of the earth, when suddenly a representative of it turned up in the forests of Upolu and Savaii. The bird itself is not much larger than a good-sized pigeon, with mottled plumage and red legs and beak. The beak is shaped exactly like that of the dodo in the pictures that have come down to us, while the arrangement of the claws and bones of the feet is most interesting from a scientific point of view. The natives were not slow in learning the value of the bird, and have spared no pains to procure as

many specimens of it as possible. In this, however, they have not been particularly successful, seeing that already it is nearly extinct. Year by year the difficulty of finding a moa is increasing, and soon it will be an impossibility. So far as is known, its habitat is confined to the Navigator Islands. It is not found in the adjacent groups of Feejee and Tonga. Possibly, however, it may have existed there at one period, and have subsequently become extinct.

The coral reefs and shoals that abound in the neighborhood of the Navigator group afford a fine field for the special studies of the conchologist. When the tide ebbs it leaves behind it on the reef numerous pools, each of which is an aquarium on a grand scale. Here rare and valuable shells can sometimes be found, while for specimens of coral, algæ, and the lower forms of marine life, the field is practically inexhaustible. Not merely can specimens be obtained, but the living animals themselves, their habits, and their lives from day to day, can be studied under exceptionally favorable circumstances. Equipped only with a paddle and a canoe of shallow draught, the student can drift at leisure over miles of calm clear water, and at the distance of a few feet contemplate the strange and mystic life of the beings that lie below him. It is indeed a rare treat to drift thus in calm weather over a belt of reef, and through the pellucid water see the million stems and branches of the coral forest, peopled by gaycolored fishes, and by well-nigh every form of marine life, from the crustaceans and echinidans down to the various spe cies of sea- weeds, whose brilliant tints and delicate spores are here displayed with a beauty and completeness at once the delight and despair of the scientific collector.

T

'HE village of L— was and still is one of the most beautiful towns of New England. Nestled among the cool hills, the white cottages overshadowed by wide-spreading boughs of green trees, its quiet homes presented a scene of peace and comfort rarely surpassed on this earth, and its numerous tall churchspires pointed constantly to heaven as emblems of the piety and goodness of the people who came to worship beneath them.

In one of the prettiest cottages at the end of the village lived Minnie Morgan, a young girl of rare and astonishing beauty, and who was the acknowledged belle not only of the town but of all the surrounding country. Minnie was a little wild, but such was her goodness of heart and beauty that even the bitter jealousies of a small inland town never reached her, and everyone said, "When Minnie grows older, she will become steadier and make a good and sober wife." Minnie's father was a small merchant, and much engrossed with the cares of business, so that he saw little of his wayward daughter. Mrs. Morgan was a handsome dressy woman of little education, and had the reputation of not being a very agreeable wife. Her husband toiled late and early to make money, and Mrs. Morgan's chief occupation seemed to be to get as much money as possible and spend it in dress and entertainment. Still, she was a good housekeeper, and an apparently affectionate wife and moth

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Minnie cried so when he came to leave, ar was so homesick, that the good old gentleman brought her away with him. This was the last attempt ever made to really educate Minnie, and she grew up with such learning and accomplishments as she could pick up at the public and day schools in the village.

At the time when we first knew her (1860) she was just sixteen, and a more gloriously beautiful creature could not be imagined. Tall for her age, lithe as a snake, her fair face crowned with a wealth of brown hair, it seemed as if all the graces had met in her person to form a perfect woman. Remarkably developed for a girl of sixteen, she was no longer a child, wore dresses with trails, and occasionally attended parties and balls. Minnie was of course the favorite of the young men, and much sought after and courted. She had numerous invitations to parties and places of public amusement, and was constantly seen in company with some of the young bloods of the town. Many of the older citizens shook their heads gravely, and more than one matron said Mr. and Mrs. Morgan were spoiling their daughter, and that it was a great pity, for Minnie was a fine girl, with all her natural impulses right and her heart warm and good.

Near the village lived a farmer named Robert Roland, who was a hard-working man, and had a large family to support. He and his wife were quiet, respectable, sensible people, and Mrs. Roland was known all over the county as the best butter- maker in it, while Robert was reckoned an excellent farmer. Their oldest son, Nathaniel, was a slender thoughtful boy, fond of study and a

great reader. He had a wonderfully retentive memory, and could repeat accurately whole pages of matter by simply reading it over once or twice. Natty stood at the head of his classes, and was as generous and brave as he was clever. Farmer Rowland had intended to make of his boy an honest tiller of the soil like himself, but one day Natty said to him:

"Father, I am not stout, and I fear I shall be unable to earn my living at physical work. The school-master says I am the best scholar in his school, and if Squire Townley's boy, who the master says is dull, is to be a lawyer and earn his bread by his head, why can't I do it?"

"My son," replied the farmer, "you must remember Squire Townley is a rich man, while we are but poor people. I know Tom Townley is not as smart as my boy, but the Squire can send him to college, and there he will learn everything, and likely make a good-enough lawyer in time. I have but little education myself, and I only wish I were able to educate one of my boys; but we are poor, my son, and we must be contented with our lot in life."

Natty said no more, but turned to his plow, and all day walked the furrow, thinking what a blessed thing an education was, and how hard it was to be too poor to obtain one.

That night, when Natty had gone to bed and all was quiet about the house, farmer Rowland repeated faithfully to his wife what Natty had said in the field. The good woman wept, and placing her arm about her husband's neck, said:

"O, Robert, I do wish we could send Natty to the academy this winter. Believe me, husband, he is no common boy, and indeed, indeed, he is not strong."

The farmer's eyes filled with tears, and patting his wife on the head, he answered:

"Well, well, wife, if your heart is set upon it, he shall go." He added, after a moment's silence and with a sigh: "Though, if Natty is to be kept at the academy, it's precious few new gowns you or the girls will get next winter."

"No matter, Robert; so Natty but gets his schooling, we can do without new dresses."

"Nay, Susan, I know your good heart and the love you bear the boy; but remember our daughter Charlotte is twenty-three, and it is time she were going out more. You were married, dame, before her age, and had the Lord only knows how many beaus. Well, well, I will do my best to not only send Natty to school, but also to give Lotty a new dress or two. Young Townley comes here pretty often-and who knows? Well, well, our Lottie would make a good - enough wife for any man, be he lawyer, doctor, or parson."

So Natty was sent to school, and soon took the lead in everything. At debating he was wonderfully ready and wellinformed, and before the winter was half over had reached the presidency of his society. A public exhibition was given, and Natty appeared as the champion debater of the "Phrenokosmians,” and at every point beat the "Delphians." The boyish victory was complete, and the honors were unhesitatingly given to Natty and his society. Farmer Roland, who was in the crowded audience, listened with astonishment to his eloquent boy, and as he rode home by the side of his wife, he said, thoughtfully:

"You were right, Susan, Natty is no common boy. It was a splendid speech, dame; and did you notice how quickly he laid out young Townley? By my soul, wife, I do not believe there is a lawyer in the shire-town who could have done better."

Natty wore his honors modestly, and continued at school, walking home every day to help his father with the farm

It was in the fall of 1859, while at home on a visit, that Natty first saw Minnie Morgan. His father had gone down to trade with Mr. Morgan, as was his custom, and his son accompanied him. While at the store of the rich merchant, Minnie came in, and Natty thought he had never in all his life seen so beautiful a creature. He was twenty-one and she fifteen. Mr. Morgan, who was always polite, introduced Roland and his son to Minnie, and there was a strange confusion and coloring of the young people as they looked into each other's faces.

That night Natty could not sleep. Turn what way he would, he saw only the face of Minnie Morgan. He tossed about in his bed until the gray streaks of dawn began to steal into the room, and then fell asleep only to dream Minnie Morgan was floating down a broad river and he tied to the shore where he could not reach or save her from drowning. Springing from the bed, the sweat streaming from every pore of his body, Natty dressed himself and went out to walk in the orchard behind the house, to think and think of Minnie Morgan.

Reader, you who have been in love know the thousand extravagances of the human imagination under such circumstances. Now Natty was a simple farmer, and Minnie was his little wife; then he lived alone on a far-off island, and Minnie was his only companion; again, he was at sea, and Minnie sailed the blue waves by his side; and last of all,

Natty Roland was now a changed being. All idea of returning to college was given up, and he thought only of living in the town where lived Minnie Morgan, that he might be near her and see her every day. He taught school during the winter, and the following spring entered himself as a law-student in the shire - town. He had only seen Minnie twice since the fall, but each time she seemed to him more and more beautiful, and he thought and dreamed of her by day and by night. Now he saw Minnie each day, and he used to sit for hours by the office window and watch for her as she came up to her father's store. His law examiners, who had heard of Natty's smartness and remarkable memory, found in him but a dull student, and wondered how the lad could have been so overestimated. Little did they know of the tempest raging in that poor brain, paralyzing every faculty of the mind except the one idea of love.

Occasionally Natty met Mr. Morgan on the street or at the store, and the rich merchant was always kind and patronizing to the young man, and once invited him to call at the house. Mrs. Morgan was also known to Natty, but she was a proud woman, and took little notice of the poor farmer's boy. Minnie walked with Natty on the street,

and talked pleasantly enough to him, but somehow always avoided bringing him to her home, or being with him where she thought her mother would see her. The love-sick youth felt himself unworthy of the rich merchant's daughter, and instinctively kept away from her gaudily furnished home. Natty's time was coming, however, and he speedily had a triumph that put his name in everyone's mouth, and opened wide to him the doors of the most opulent citizens of L—.

There was to be a great political meeting in the place, and a lawyer who had once heard Natty debate proposed he should be put on at the bottom of the list of speakers. There were a dozen prominent names on the list above his, and no one expected he would be given an opportunity to be heard; still he was honored by printing his name on the bills which announced the great meeting. Natty felt, however, that this was somehow to be a great occasion for him, and he began preparing his speech with much care, thinking only of how he should appear in her eyes, and how grandly he should speak as her

orator.

The day came, and with it thousands of people from all parts of the country. At noon arrived a dispatch saying the train on which the invited speakers were was unavoidably delayed, and would not get in until late in the afternoon. Of the three local speakers on the bills, one was sick, and another absent attending the funeral of his father, so that of all announced to speak only Natty was present at the opening of the meeting. In the presence of thousands he ascended the platform, and as he turned his still-beardless face to the multitude a shout of encouragement went up for the courageous boy who dared address grayheaded men on the abstruse political questions of the hour. Slowly and in tremulous tones the young orator be

gan, and warming with his subject soon showed a familiarity with the past history of political parties and their acts that amazed his hearers. The rostrum was near the residence of Mr. Morgan, and looking over at the house Natty saw Minnie and her mother seated at one of the upper windows, apparently interested listeners to his discourse. Thrilling as if touched by an electric wire, Natty lifted up his voice, and for one hour and a half spoke with a terseness, eloquence, and logic such as had never before been heard on any political occasion in that county. It seemed as though he could remember everything he had ever read on the subjects under discussion, and argument, sarcasm, and pathos were alike at his command, until his audience became thoroughly moved and excited. When he closed, cheer after cheer rent the air, and one of the first to congratulate him was Mr. Morgan, who said heartily:

"Young man, you have done honor to your party, and made the best political speech I ever heard in this town. You will be a great man some day, if you take care of yourself."

Other speeches were made, but somehow the people said Natty's was the best, and his name and fame were in the mouth of everyone. When the meeting adjourned, Natty hastened away to his room, to dream of Minnie and wonder what she would think of his great speech. Late in the afternoon his father came hunting for him, and, taking Natty's hand in his, said solemnly:

"Lad, the people praise you, and I, too, am astonished at your power. I am proud of you, boy, and I pray God to keep your heart and mind pure and strong for the great usefulness that is in store for you."

This was high praise, but Natty felt it not so much as what Mr. Morgan had said. Would the father tell Minnie he would some day be a great man? Would