A writer who lived at the time when our "King James's" Bible was translated, speaking of the sea as "the great pond of the world," says, "We know not whether to wonder at the element itself, or the guests which it contains." As we have been learning a little of the ways of the inhabitants of the ocean of air, as well as those that people the world of water, let me close this chapter by quoting an American poet's beautiful verses:-- "TO A WATER FOWL. "Whither, midst falling dew While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far through their rosy depths dost thou pursue Thy solitary way? "Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, Thy figure floats along. "Seek'st thou the plashy brink Of weedy lake, or marge of river wide, Or where the rocking billows rise and sink On the chafed ocean side? "There is a Power whose care Teaches thy way along that pathless coast-- The desert and illimitable air-- Lone wandering, but not lost. "All day thy wings have fanned At that far height the cold, thin atmosphere; Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land, Though the dark night is near. "And soon that toil shall end; Soon shalt thou find a summer home, and rest And scream among thy fellows; reeds shall bend Soon o'er thy sheltered nest. "Thou'rt gone; the abyss of heaven Hath swallowed up thy form; yet on my heart Deeply hath sunk the lesson thou hast given, And shall not soon depart. "He who, from zone to zone, Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight, In the long way that I must tread alone, Will lead my steps aright." W. C. BRYANT. THE FIFTH DAY. FLYING FOWL. "_Gavest Thou the goodly wings unto the peacocks? or wings and feathers unto the ostrich?_" "_Doth the hawk fly by Thy wisdom, and stretch her wings toward the south?_" "_Doth the eagle mount up at Thy command, and make her nest on high?_"--JOB xxxix. 13, 26, 27. "_The flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land._"--SONG OF SOLOMON ii. 12. It was on the FIFTH DAY of Creation that the silence was broken by the voice of birds. We are so accustomed to the various cries of animals, the buzzing of insects, and above all to the chirping and twittering and singing of birds, that we can hardly imagine what a voiceless world would be like.