So interested had Mary and Jane become in Uncle Thomas’s Stories that long ere the time for setting out on the following evening they were in readiness. Mary, indeed, wished to set off at once without waiting the arrival of the usual hour, as she was, she said, quite sure that Uncle Thomas would be glad to see them, however soon, and that there was no fear of exhausting his Stories, since he had so many, and really she was so anxious to hear him begin. All her efforts, however, could not convince Mama of the propriety of setting out so early, and she at length found some occupation on which she soon became so intent that the time seemed to steal imperceptibly away, and she had not quite finished the task which she had appointed to herself, when her Brothers gave notice that it was time to set out. Uncle Thomas received them in his usual affectionate manner, and when they were once more seated he began:— “I am this evening going to tell you,” he said, “about a Bird which, though in some degree allied to the Eagles, yet differs from them in many essential points—I mean the Vulture. While the Eagle seeks its prey among living animals only, the Vulture confines itself to dead and decaying substances, seeming to prefer such as is in the last stage of decomposition, rather than fresh and recently killed animals.” “A singular taste it must have, Uncle Thomas,” remarked John. “To our notions it does seem singular,” said Uncle Thomas; “it yet requires but a moment’s consideration to show us how admirably this ‘depraved’ taste, as it has been called, fits the animal for the purposes for which the Creator designed it. The Vulture is found in the greatest numbers in hot climates, where, if the bodies of dead animals were left to putrify and taint the air, they would soon cause a pestilence, and thus spread death and destruction among the inhabitants. But against such calamities Providence has guarded, by creating the Vulture with an appetite for such substances which are thus speedily consumed. It is thus that we can readily account for a taste which seems to us at first to be almost inexplicable. “In most of the towns in Egypt,” continued Uncle Thomas, “the Vulture is a privileged citizen, and no one is allowed to molest it. It there executes the office of scavenger, and speedily removes such substances as would soon become offensive.” “Does the Vulture never kill its own prey?” asked Harry.