100 



DEATH. 



eulogizes the eagle for his temperance. He does not eat at all, says he. 



The truth is, that when his prey is large, he feasts himself on the spot. 



and carries but a small portion to 

 his family. The king of the air, 

 says he again, disdains small ani- 

 mals. But observation points to a 

 directly opposite conclusion. The 

 ordinary eagle attacks with eagerness 

 the most timid of beings, the hare; 

 the spotted eagle assails the duck. 

 The booted eagle has a preference for 

 field mice and house mice, and eats 

 them so greedily that he swallows 

 them without killing them. The 

 bald-headed eagle, or pygargo, will 

 frequently slay his own young, and 

 often drives them from the nest be- 

 fore they can support themselves. 



Near Havre I have observed one 

 instance of truly royal nobility, and, 

 above all, of sobriety, in an eagle. 

 A bird, captured at sea, but which 

 has fallen into far too kindly hands 

 in a butcher's house, is so gorged 

 with an abundance of food obtained 

 without fighting, that he appears to 

 regret nothing. A Falstaff of an 

 eagle, he grows fat, and cares no 

 longer for the chase, or the plains 

 of heaven. If he no longer fixedly 

 eyes the sun, he watches the kitchen, 

 and for a titbit allows the children 

 to drag him by the tail. 

 If rank is to be decided by strength, the first place must not 



