“And you have the honor of having lost your hook in the clear waters of Lake Huron,” added his mother. Norman was meanwhile tying to the end of his line the little board on which the line had been wound, and he threw that in the water in place of the hook. This was a more stirring pastime. The board offered so much stronger resistance to the waves, that Norman had to wind the line several times around his hand to retain his hold. At one moment the jerk was so violent, that the cord drew the boy toward the low balustrade, over which he might have easily gone, but for the interposing arms of the lady and his mother, at once thrown round him. There was a start among the little company as they perceived the boy’s danger, and Mrs. Lester told Norman he had now better draw in his line. A new entertainment succeeded. Norman had been watching a sea-gull that had been following directly in the track of their vessel for many miles long before sunset; those untiring wings of snowy white had borne the graceful bird onward, and ever and anon she made a circling sweep, and rested a while on the bosom of the water. “Norman,” said Mrs. Bard, “you go to the pantry, and ask for some pieces of bread, and throw them in the water, and you will soon have a flock of sea-gulls following you.” Norman waited not a second bidding, and soon came back with some rolls and pieces of bread. He threw some in, and the gull did not see them. He then waited till the bird came quite near the vessel, and threw it up toward her. Then he had the satisfaction of seeing the gull slowly circle round and round, till it picked up the morsel of bread. In a few minutes another gull came, and then another, and then another, till six white birds, on rapid wing, were hovering over the vessel’s track, and picking up the bread cast upon the waters. Norman’s delight knew no bounds. It is pleasant to feed chickens in a barn-yard; but what is that compared to feeding gulls on Lake Huron, and seeing them wing their flight at your call through the trackless solitudes of air. He was sorry when the darkness prevented the sea-gulls from seeing the pieces of bread, and they “Wing’d their way to far-off islands, To their nests among the rushes.” The evening star soon set, and the moon was left pale empress of the sky. How glorious was the path of silvery light she threw across the water. Sweet strains of music sounded from the band, and the eye, following that radiant pathway, would see in it now a silvery cascade, and now a shining road to a niche, in which hung the moon, the crescent lamp of night. It was a sweet conclusion to a day rich in enjoyment. Sea, sky, and air had brought their tribute; and the heart of man had rejoiced, as the eye took in this wealth of beauty. What suitable expression those feelings found in the language of the nineteenth Psalm! [Illustration: No. 666. COMMON GULL.]