pleasure at seeing those who have been kind to them, by moving their
ears gently, and putting out their wet noses. My old horse rests his
head on the gate with great complacency when he sees me coming,
expecting to receive an apple or a piece of bread. I should even be
sorry to see my poultry and pigs get out of my way with any symptoms of
fear."

_The Moor-hen._

One of Mr. Haydon's new pictures is _the first start in life_--a mother
teaching her infant to walk--it is a clever sketch, but, bearing in mind
the beautiful comparison of Solomon and the lily of the valley, here is
a counterpart.

"Fishing the other day in Hampton Court Park, I disturbed a moor-hen who
had just hatched, and watched her anxiety and manoeuvres to draw away
her young. She would go a short distance, utter a cry, return, and
seemed to lead the way for her brood to follow. Having driven her away,
that I might have a better opportunity of watching her young ones, she
never ceased calling to them, and they made towards her, skulking
amongst the rushes, till they got to the other side of the pond. They
had only just left the shell, and had probably never heard the cry of
their mother before."

There is true benevolence in these remarks. How much is conveyed in the
homely expression, that such a man "would not tread upon a worm:" we
should learn to covet such men as friends.

_The Cardinal Spider._