It is indeed marvelous that these animals should be able to descend with facility the most abrupt precipices and cross canons, the sides of which are almost vertical, and this has given rise to the idea that they can throw themselves from great heights, and striking on their horns, can rebound uninjured and alight on their feet. Indeed, this is somewhat imaginative as it is apparently unreasonable. It is on account of the vast size of the horns, and the fact that these are often battered and splintered that this statement has been accepted as worthy of belief. It has been suggested, however, that even if the animal's head could stand so great a shock, it's neck would not. If it were true, how could females and young males, whose horns are little larger than those of the goat descend the cliffs, which they do as actively and successfully as the old males? The fact is that the splintered condition of the horns of the bucks is due to their battles and their play at all times of the year. The feet of Mountain Sheep are precisely adapted for their life among the crags, and they seem to be able to cling to any surface which presents the slightest inequality. Only the Wild Goat could pass over the same dangerous places. May or June are given in some of the best works on natural history as the time when the young are brought forth. A SEMINARY FOR TEACHING BIRDS HOW TO SING. Buying and importing song birds, says the _Scientific American_, occupies the time and attention of several scores of people in New York, and as the distributing center of this peculiar trade, the city is often the home of considerable numbers of song birds gathered from all quarters of the globe. On the East side, in Fourth street, there are several remarkable aviaries where, without doubt, a study of one branch of ornithology can be pursued under conditions more favorable than elsewhere on this continent, and a visit to one of these bird conservatories of music is better than a trip to the fields or woods to listen to the songs of the wild warblers. The owner of the aviary is a German--more than probable from some little village in the Hartz Mountains, where bird-raising is the chief industry,--and he not only feeds and tends his little birds with loving care, but teaches them to whistle and sing in tune to the accompaniment of an old reed organ or flute.