A lark, reared from the nest, was most resolute in thus urging his claims to get out during breakfast. His bath consisted of a saucer of sand, in which he rolled with great satisfaction, after which he would lie down on a sunny spot and bask on the carpet. It so happened that the only part of the room where the morning sun shone, was generally appropriated by a poodle dog; but "larky" always insisted on room being made for him, and would peck at the dog's feet, and torment him till he rose or moved, so as to leave sufficient space for lying down beside him.

In another rather inconvenient way he shewed his liking for a cozy perch; for, unless watched, he would fly on to the table and crouch down on the hot rolls, giving a little angry scream and pecking at the hand that dislodged him.

The friendships formed between the animals themselves are very curious, and cannot always be accounted for by the usual reason given, - namely, that of solitude. A very tame bantam cock was one of the most friendly birds in this way I ever knew. He had been brought up by some cottage children from his chicken-hood, and never seemed happier or more contented than when lying on any one's lap or carried about, sometimes wrapped in a shawl, by his young owners. He always shewed a marked preference for human society, making unceasing efforts all the fifteen years we had him, to be considered an in-door pet, coming into the house at every opportunity, and walking upstairs, or into any of the sitting-rooms. For a whole winter he resolutely attempted to settle for the night on the top of a bookcase in the library, and when removed, day after day, he would not remain in either stable or shed, but came back to the house, and slept on the window-sill. At last, to our surprise, "Jupiter," as he was called, forsook the accustomed roosting-place, and it was discovered that during the day, a stray pigeon, not belonging to the place, had formed a friendship with the cock, and the two walked about the garden and fed together. If at any time the pigeon flew up to the roof of the house, the distress of the bantam was great, and his cries for his companion to come down were incessant, and generally proved successful. At first the pigeon flew away at night, but after a while it betook itself to an open, unused stable, and from that time the bantam deserted the window and slept beside the pigeon in the stable. I forget what became of the pigeon, but Jupiter's next friend was a little green paroquet, whose cage used to be put out in the porch every morning. He used to watch for it, and run to meet it, and the paroquet would put down its head to be caressed by him, and the two friends would sit as close together as the cage would permit, billing and cooing like doves. His last friendship was more extraordinary, for it was with an animal rather more addicted to make a meal than a pet of any poultry he could lay hold of, - the coatimondi. He was generally kept fastened by a long chain to a kennel, and though as affectionate and gentle as a dog to those he knew, yet he would allow no strange dog to come near him, and used to spring at small birds when they came within reach. However, the bantam became recognised, as the dog had previously been, as a companion, and they fed together, and there never seemed the smallest disagreement between them. Frequently, however, one finds among animals a preference for human society to that of their own kind. This is shewn, not merely by dogs, in whom we almost expect to find this friendship, but by birds, especially those brought up from the nest. They seem restless and unhappy when left alone, or only with other animals, and shew a marked satisfaction at the return of any one they are attached to, as well as a desire to attract attention and get a kind word or caress. There is a difference in this respect between not only the different species of animals, but also between the individuals of the same species : some are more confiding and affectionate naturally than others, as all pet lovers, from Cowper and his hares downwards, can testify. Among birds, the raven, jackdaw, some pigeons, the bullfinch, siskin, green-linnet, and chaffinch are remarkable for this personal attachment. I believe I should say some ravens only, for individuality of character is strongly marked in this bird, and there is always a kind of independence about any I have known, that tends to keep them from the somewhat pertinacious style of affection shewn by the jackdaw. Indeed you are never quite sure whether it is you who are bestowing attention and notice upon the raven, or the raven who is bestowing it. upon you! We have had three ravens at different times, who were allowed to live in freedom, and it was curious to see how distinctly these birds knew their own premises, rarely wandering even into the next garden, and how soon each bird learned to know the sound of opening the dining-room window as a signal for being fed. One lived thus for many years, his wings uncut, and perfectly able to fly away if so inclined; he used sometimes to amuse himself by taking a flight, and would soar above the garden in company with the rooks passing by; but whenever a fear entered our minds that he might goo too far off, we had but to ring the dinner bell, the sound of which invariably brought him to the front of the house to be fed. His sense of time was correct, and his punctuality exemplary; both at the breakfast and dinner hour, he was sure to be seen stalking about before the windows, and not seldom was the old raven supplied before either the guests or the family. For several years this bird built a nest every spring, at first in a holly tree, and afterwards in a large cage in the garden where he slept, and the door of which stood always open. While engaged in this work, he or she was certainly a troublesome inmate of a garden, for, not satisfied with gathering all the stray pieces of stick, he would pull up every tally and rod he could find, dragging sometimes large dahlia-poles to his cage, though utterly useless for his purposes. I used to look upon a raven's nest as a sure resource all summer if I required either a tally or a supply of sticks to tie up plants to, though I did not dare to meddle with it if the builder was present. When the nest was finished and lined with hay, he used to fly to it whenever any food was given to him, never eating it, as at other times, - he had evidently some instinctive feeling that there were young ones depending on him. He had a very curious penchant for black cats : if a stray individual of that colour made its appearance in the garden, the raven used to follow it about, sit close to it if it lay under a bush, perch as near as he could get when it was concealed among the pea-sticks, and even allow it to come into his cage, and, on more than one occasion, to sleep in his nest. The cats, for he had more than one feline friend, were attracted to his house, no doubt, by the supplies of provisions he used to conceal there, as is the habit of this bird; but what his fancy for them was, we never understood, unless misled by their colour, (his friends were invariably black,) he had some idea they were four-footed ravens. Poor bird, his fancy for black animals caused his death at last; for he could not be prevented from attempting a familiar intimacy with a black English terrier. Once it seized him and nearly worried him to death; but, undeterred by this, and by frequent attempts to chase him, he continued to come close to the dog, fluttering his wings, and croaking in a murmuring voice, until in a luckless hour, when the family were from home, the dog seized him, and, ere he could be rescued, gave him a death-gripe.