Some few years ago a robin took up his abode near the communion table in the old abbey at Bath, England, and remained there for some considerable time; his victualing department being presided over by a friendly verger, he naturally had every inducement to remain, and remain he did. During sermon time, with the exception of an occasional chirp of approval, he preserved an exemplary silence, neither coughing nor yawning, but when the hymns were sung, and he perched himself on the communion rail, his voice could be heard high above those of the human singers. All redbreasts, however, do not behave so well, and one at Ely cathedral some time ago carried on in such a manner that he brought disgrace on his tiny head. During the service he behaved fairly well, but when the clergyman ascended the pulpit and began to speak, the robin deliberately perched himself on an adjacent pinnacle of the chancel screen and began to sing, and the louder the preacher spoke the greater volume of sound proceeded from the irreverent bird, till he had to be removed. * * * * * The first place in the ranks of birds was until lately given by naturalists to eagles and hawks. The low-foreheaded tyrants are now dethroned, and the highest development of the race is reached in the family of the sparrows, if the following story be true. A man was feeding with breadcrumbs a wood pigeon at his feet. One of the bird's feathers, which was ruffled and out of place, caught the eye of a sparrow; the little bird flew down, seized the feather in its beak and pulled its best. The feather did not yield at once, and the pigeon walked off with offended dignity. The sparrow followed, still holding on; and, in the end, flew off triumphant with the trophy to its nest. DECEMBER. Down swept the chill wind from the mountain peak, From the snow five thousand summers old; On open wold and hill-top bleak It had gathered all the cold, And whirled it like sleet on the wanderer's cheek; It carried a shiver everywhere From the unleafed boughs and pastures bare; The little brook heard it and built a roof 'Neath which he could house him, winter-proof; All night by the white stars' frosty gleams He groined his arches and matched his beams; Slender and clear were his crystal spars As the lashes of light that trim the stars; He sculptured every summer delight In his halls and chambers out of sight. * * * * * 'Twas as if every image that mirrored lay In his depths serene through the summer day, Each fleeting shadow of earth and sky, Lest the happy model should be lost, Had been mimicked in fairy masonry By the elfin builders of the frost. --_Lowell._