uirrel, sitting on a hickory-tree, was once observed to weigh the
nuts he got in each paw, to find out which were good and which were bad.
The light ones he invariably threw away, retaining only those which were
heavier. It was found, on examining those he had thrown away, that he
had not made a mistake in a single instance. They were all bad nuts.

[Illustration: THE GIRAFFE]

The Giraffe.

Leaving our friends the squirrels, to whom we have certainly devoted
quite sufficient attention, we pass along to quite a different race of
animals--that of the giraffe or camelopard. This is a noble-looking
animal, as you see plainly enough by the engraving. The tongue of the
giraffe is exquisitely contrived for grasping. In its native deserts,
the animal uses it to hook down branches which are beyond the reach of
its muzzle; and in the menagerie at Regent's Park, many a fair lady has
been robbed of the artificial flowers which adorned her bonnet, by the
nimble and filching tongue of the rare object of her admiration. When
attacked, notwithstanding the natural defence of horns and hoofs, the
camelopard always seeks escape in flight, and will not turn to do
battle except at the last extremity. In such cases, he sometimes makes a
successful defence by striking out his powerful armed feet; and the king
of beasts is frequently repelled and disabled by the wounds which the
giraffe has thus inflicted with his hoofs. His horns are also used with
effect, and a side-long sweep of his neck sometimes does fatal
execution.

Some years ago, a giraffe was sent from Egypt to Constantinople. His
keeper used to exercise him in an open square, where the Turks flocked
daily, in great crowds, to see the extraordinary animal. Seeing how
inoffensive he was, and how domestic he became, the keeper took the
animal with him through the city; and wherever he appeared, a number of
friendly hands were held out of the latticed windows, to offer him
something to eat. When he came to a house where he had been well
treated, if no one was at the window, he would tap gently against the
wooden lattice, as if to announce his visit. He was extremely docile and
affectionate; and if left to himself, he always frequented the streets
where he had the most and best friends.

The Monkey Tribe.

Of course my readers are in some measure familiar with the tricks of
this large and notorious family of animals. But one is not easily
wearied with their anti