curve, and sounded by a mouthpiece. The trombone, or sackbut, is a deeper-toned trumpet, composed of sliding tubes. It can produce sublime effects in solemn music when well played. The trumpet and harp fill lofty parts in the Book of Revelation, the one warlike in its meaning, the other peaceful. The earliest trumpets were probably the horns of animals. The French horn is ten feet long, and bent in rings. It has no holes, like the flute, but the notes depend on the pressure of the player's breath. If he inserts his hand into the wide end, he can alter the effect. The bugle horn is three feet ten inches in length, and is doubled up in a small compass. It is now generally provided with keys. The Russian horn is straight. It varies from two inches and a half in length to eight feet. The bagpipe has a leathern bag, and three pipes. Two of them have but one note, and they are called the great and little drone. The third pipe has holes, on which the tune is played by means of the fingers. The wind is conveyed to the pipes by squeezing the bag with the arm. Bagpipes are by no means new instruments. The pilgrims of Chaucer were regaled with the music of the bagpipes, as they went to Canterbury. Cymbals are very ancient. They are made of brass, and always used in pairs. They were more cuplike, formerly, than they are now. They are now shaped like plates, and are about a foot across. They sound well in the open air, but are almost too noisy for a concert-room. The timbrel, which Miriam used in her song of triumph, after the passage of the Red Sea, was more like the modern tambourine—that is, a hoop of wood with a skin of parchment stretched tight over it, and struck with the hand. The drum every one knows by sight, and who is there that has not heard it? It forms an important feature in a military band, and seems well adapted to the "pride, pomp, and circumstance of war." THE PIGEON AND THE FALCON. N the animal kingdom we find On a gentleman's estate in Holland one summer evening, a number of birds were noticed to be in a state of unusual excitement, flying about as if they were preparing for some important movement or making a demonstration on a great scale. It soon appeared that a "fluttering in the dovecotes," had been caused by the presence of a falcon, which had taken the liberty to carry off a pigeon. The hawk with its victim in its talons was soaring into the air, when a company of crows that had witnessed the outrage determined to fly after it and rescue their unhappy friend. Keeping up the pursuit for a considerable time, the plucky crows at length compelled the hawk, which had become exhausted with fatigue and fright, to set its prey free; and we may be pretty sure the poor pigeon was very glad to escape from the clutches of the terrible falcon. Now, how are we to account for a rescue of so unusual a character? Crows have sometimes been observed to follow a hawk, and force it to drop its victim, and it has been suggested that they act so only from a love of the chase, rather than from any desire to assist their fellows out of trouble. This might be true of the falcon, which is a born hunter, but some other explanation must be found to account for the conduct of birds which, compared with hawks, must certainly be allowed to be both mild and inoffensive. It seems to me that the most reasonable and natural supposition is, that it was the hatred which the crows must, in common with other birds, be supposed to bear to the falcon that led them to band themselves together to deliver their companion from its claws. There are plenty of cases to strengthen this supposition, in which feathered songsters have acted in concert for purposes of offence or defence; and we also know that, in the presence of danger, even the most timid animals seem to acquire courage, sometimes amounting almost to rashness, from the mere consciousness of numbers. They appear to have an instinctive notion that in these circumstances they possess an altogether different power and resource from what they individually enjoy. A GRATEFUL CHILD. A TRUE STORY. HE winter frost was strong and keen, The snow fell thick and fast, And, like a furious beast of prey, Loud howled the angry blast. It swept through streets and spacious squares, And on the threshold paused, nor durst But where the hapless, helpless poor Conceal their drooping head It roared and raved, and in and out Through shattered pane and broken roof The biting wind blew in, It almost froze the mother's tears No food, an almost empty grate- "Oh, mother, 'tis a fearful night! To have a house to shelter me, And bed on which to lie! How many little ones like I Are forced the streets to roam, No mother dear to comfort them, Not e'en a humble home. "I have this quilt to keep me warm, But what can real poor people do?" A lesson, children, from him learn, Of patient, sweet content, And thankful take from God's kind hand, Whatever He hath sent. MARY A. ROBERTS. A SCANDINAVIAN JACK NCE upon a time, far up amongst the snow and ice, at no great distance from the North Pole, there resided a boy named Jan. He had a father and mother, and brothers and sisters, and their house was built of hard snow, polished like marble, with ice pillars as clear as crystal. Snow-white pe"JAN WOULD TRY TO CATCH THEM." trels skimmed through the air and hovered about the great icebergs. Sometimes Jan would try to catch them; or kill them by hitting them with hard snowballs. At such times the petrels would gaze at him mournfully, and once the oldest of them said to him "Leave us alone and war with the giants." THE GIANT-KILLER. Now this was an idea that had never occurred to Jan before, and he pondered over it, and wondered whether it would be possible for him to do SO. He did not say anything about it, as he knew his brothers would laugh at him. The wealth of Jan's father lay in his flocks and herds, and these were rapidly decreasing under the raids of the giants who lived in those parts; and Jan looked sad enough as he leaned against one of the ice pillars. His father and brothers were moody and troubled, and his mother and sisters were weeping. "There won't be a sheep, or an ox, or a deer left," said the father. "My good cows!" sobbed the mother. "My little goat!" sobbed Fenia, the eldest sister. "Father," Jan said, "if you will give me the sword that hangs on the wall, and the snow-shoes that my great grandfather wore, and a stout belt, and the horn mounted in silver that is only blown at harvest-time, I will go and kill these giants, and then we shall live in peace and safety." As Jan ended his speech his brothers burst out laughing; it seemed so absurd to all of them that a little fellow like Jan should think of encountering the giants, who were known to be twelve feet in height, though no one had ever yet seen them. "And where shouldest thou find them?" asked the father. "Trust me for that," replied Jan. "Thou art too conceited, Jan," said his father. "I am no babe," returned Jan, "I am a wellgrown lad, and if you will give me what I ask I will rid the north land of these monsters." The brothers laughed louder than ever, and the father said "Hold thy tongue, Jan," and turned away. Then the brothers crowded round Jan, saying"Here is the giant-killer! Here is the wonderful Jan the sword-wielder-the horn-blower-the swift runner!" And again they laughed. II. BEFORE very long another raid was made whilst Jan, and his father and mother, and brothers, and sisters were asleep; and when they awoke they found that, like Bo-peep, they had lost all their sheep. "Do let me have what I asked for," said Jan; "and then I will go and kill the giants." Then the father took down the sword and the snow-shoes, and a long leathern belt ; and Jan girded them on as though he were quite accustomed to them. The father also gave him the polished horn, which Jan thrust into his belt. The snow-shoes were very large-one of them six feet long, the other a little shorter; and Jan knew they would carry him up and down hill fleetly. He was not wrong, for after taking leave of the family he was soon out of sight. III. "HE... AH! how swiftly Jan went along through the beautiful country with its lakes and mountains; out of breath with gliding up the hills and slipping down on the other side, and he paused to take breath in the middle of a dark frozen pool with tall pines growing round it. Where was he going? And where should he find the giants? That he did not know; he had only a vague idea that the North Pole was the point to make for. As Jan looked round more carefully he saw that beside each pine-tree crouched a huge grey wolf, doubtless belonging to one of the giants. In that moment Jan felt for the first time in his life that he was a hero. Certainly here was danger enough for any one who desired it. The grey wolves advanced to the edge of the pool, making an unbroken circle round it. Then, at a signal from one of the leaders, they stepped upon the ice, making a narrower circle of two deep. Nearer again they came, making a circle of three deep, then four, then five, six, seven deep, and at last came so near and the circle was so deep that it seemed to Jan as though there were no circles at all, only a mass of wolves' heads. Then he drew the horn from his belt and began to blow such soft, sweet notes that the wolves stood still and listened attentively. Their eyes lost their BEGAN TO BLOW SUCH SOFT, SWEET NOTES." savage glare, their mouths closed, and a milder expression came on their faces. Jan played on, marching along slowly to the opposite side of the pool, the whole herd following. Suddenly he turned. "Who's your master?" 66 Grimnerskrimner," and the wolves began to growl, and sprang towards him. Again Jan blew his horn, and the growls ceased. "Where does he live?" asked Jan. Again came the low growls, and Jan saw that if he wished to be safe he must go on playing. Therefore he asked no more questions, but went on, followed by the wolves. Suddenly he perceived a cavern, running a long way into the earth with a narrow passage at the other end. Now as Jan was a hero he made up his mind at once what to do, and moreover knew that he should do it. Still playing on his horn he entered the cavern, followed by the pack of wolves. Boldly he marched on through the lofty cave and through the narrow passage, too narrow for more than one wolf to pass along at a time. When he came to the outlet he stepped lightly outside, having his horn, on which he ceased not to blow, in his left hand, and his drawn sword in his right. And as the first wolf emerged he cut off its head at one "HE LIFTED UP JAN WITH HIS FINGER AND THUMB." the other, and Jan standing somewhat exhausted beside them. And Jan, being a hero, now looked about in search of a new adventure. He had not long to wait; he heard a heavy tread in the distance, and saw a colossal figure advancing. Also he heard a terrible voice exclaim "Who has killed my hunting pack?" This then was the giant Grimnerskrimner. go home with me and amuse me whilst I have my supper, and then I'll kill you in the morning." So saying he lifted up Jan with his finger and thumb, and took him into his castle that was built of rocks and stones. In the kitchen Jan saw ten of his father's sheep and two oxen being roasted before an enormous fire. The giant sat down by the fireplace, and his wife put one of the oxen on a trencher beside her husband. There were already on the table a barrel of mead, a huge loaf, and a pie that would have held Jan and several of his brothers. Perhaps the giant guessed what Jan was thinking of, for he said, meditatively "Yes, you shall be baked in a pie. Wife, do you hear? you shall make some piecrust to-morrow and bake this lad under it." The wife was a miserablelooking woman, as giants' wives generally are. She was very much afraid of her husband, and was inclined to take part with his victims. Grimnerskrimner began to eat and drink, and threw a piece of meat to Jan, which he ate with an appetite, having had nothing since he left home. After which the giant said, "Now show me what you can do." Jan climbed nimbly up the table-leg, and standing on the table drew his sword, and deftly cut the loaf into four quarters; then, turning to the ox, he divided it into half a dozen pieces directly. Grimnerskrimner opened his eyes widely. "You are pretty strong for your size; you know how to use your sword." "And my belt too," returned Jan, unwinding it from his body and fastening it to a rope that was dangling from a great beam. "What's that for?" asked the giant. "You shall see me hang myself and cut myself down," said Jan; "it's a capital trick." So Jan made a running noose at one end of the "I have," replied Jan boldly, "and I shall do yet belt, and let the belt swing for awhile. Then he more wonderful things than this." darted forward, thrusting his head into the noose, contriving, however, to hold it with his hand so that it should not slip and strangle him. Then he jerked his body about, turned one or two somer |