hurriedly broke open the seal, and scanned the
first few lines. Was it good news, or bad? I
believe I was as excited about it as they were.
Yes! thank God! Mechanically he answered
the question by reading aloud that "his Gracious
Majesty had been pleased to appoint Pastor———
to the cure of T——— , in the south of Norway."
Such an evening as we passed! How we sung,
and laughed, and smoked, and drank punch!
Indeed, I never shall forget that day in the
Arctic Circle.

ANOTHER FLIGHT OF BIRDS.

THE learned gentleman who made time fly for
me like a swallow during a short walk this
spring, is a reverend gentleman, irreverently
known to me as Jackdaw. We were great
chums at Rugby, where I was an idler, he a
studious fellow, really fond of his books. His
erudition got me out of many a scrape in school
hours; and then, out of doors, he was great.
For he knew the sacred Latin names of all the
butterflies that flitted across us in our holiday
ways; and most of the flowers seemed to be his
familiar acquaintances, for he would talk of
them (when I was in the humour to listen), and
tell me all manner of strange stories about them,
which were really interesting and amusing. But
it was upon birds that my learned young friend
was most profound, and then, when it came to
practical researches, I could better enter into
his spirit, for it really was grand fun when we
went bird-nesting, though he beat me at that
too. However high the tree, or however thick
the bush, he was pretty sure to be the first to
find signs of a nest, so that, however eager I
was for the sport, I had to play second fiddle to
him, and act under his directions. He had a
splendid cabinet of eggs, for a schoolboy, though
he was very particular about robbing the birds,
and I believe he would rather have stamped all
his eggs and his own head too, if that were
possible, to powder, than have taken a whole
sitting at once, leaving none "for the birds to
go on with."

Jackdaw was so named among us because
of his partiality for birds. His real name
being Dawe, we christened him Jack, and
at Rugby, all efforts of his godfathers and
godmothers to the contrary notwithstanding,
Jackdaw he was; we were all ready to make
affidavit that he was Jackdaw born, and a fine
fellow of a Jackdaw too. His care about birds
was immense, and we took for granted that he
understood what they said, for the moment a
bird opened its mouth he knew its name, if not
its address; and even knowledge of its address
was not improbable, for he knew all the nests
in the season within a radius of some miles, and
sometimes an uncommon bird would have but
one or two places of residence within that
distance. Jackdaw was indeed a walking directory
for birds. Sometimes, especially in spring, I used
to catch some of his enthusiasm, and greatly was
the pleasure of that season enhanced thereby.

Well, all things must have an end, and so our
pleasant school-days ended, and we separated,
for our paths in life thenceforth diverged.
Jackdaw, destined for the Church, entered the
university, where he took a good degree, and I
mounted a high stool in my father's office.

It was some ten years after we thus separated,
that, out for a stroll away from London smoke,
I found myself on a fine spring morning in a
Surrey market town. Just as I was about to
leave the town, I saw hopping along in front of
me a clerical-looking gentleman, like a black
bird with a white neck, whose appearance was
oddly familiar to me. Hurrying till I came
abreast of him, a glance at his face made sure.

"What! Old Jackdaw! Is it really you?"

A hearty grasp of the hand on either side
assured us that school memories were fresh and
strong in us both, although we had heard nothing
of each other since we left Rugby.

Jackdaw, finding me to have no other business
in hand than a holiday stroll, told me that his
rectory was only about five miles off, and he
must insist upon my going with him. "I see
you are in full walking canonicals, and I was
going home on foot. We shall get there by
dinner-time."

"So we went onward together, and had soon
put one another in possession of the leading
events of our lives during the last ten years.
Then, by degrees, falling into conversation upon
general topics. "Well, Jackdaw," I said, at
last, "do you take as much interest as ever in
the birds?"

"Ah, my dear fellow, that I do; and here, my
lot is cast in a very paradise of birds. I never
can be too thankful that my tastes were directed
that way."

"Well, but surely," said I, "you must pretty
well have exhausted the subject by this time."

"Exhausted it! Why, if I were to live a
hundred years, I believe I could not walk four
or five miles without seeing or hearing
something new."

"So people talk," said I; "but it seems to
me that the birds are pretty much alike; at all
events, thanks to you, I know all the common
ones, and I seldom see anything remarkable,
almost never anything new. As for their songs,
pleasant as they are in a vague way, they seem
to me a jumble; and if two or three are singing
together, I can't for the life of me make out
which is which."

"Ah, that's because your eyes and ears are
not trained to observation; and you can no more
expect them to educate themselves than you
could have expected reading and writing to come
by nature."

"Well," said I, "I can understand a
ploughboy making them out; he can't well help it, living
among them all his life; but surely a
ploughboy's education is not the kind you have given
yourself?"

"It is, indeed, the kind," returned my friend,
"but the degree differs, I trust, vastly. What
is beaten into his ears and eyes in spite of
himself, by mere constant repetition, I seek for and