16 John Bacliman. 



rising from the still surface, near the opposite bank, 

 a round, dark head, with soft, lustrous brown eyes, 

 glancing timidly around ; then another little head 

 appears, and losing all fear in the certainty of 

 safety, the beavers boldly gambol and play up and 

 down, to and fro, upon the stream ; till, their recrea- 

 tion over, they settle down to their business in 

 a sober way. This change of action, discovers to 

 the looker on, the little John Bachman, an un- 

 finished beaver-dam, encroaching into the quiet 

 brook. So our young naturalist studies the habits 

 of the beaver. Suddenly the stillness of the evening 

 is broken by the distant sound of a bell. Every 

 beaver stops his work, and raises his head. We see 

 a disappointed look steal into the watching eyes 

 that peep through the willows on the bank ; the 

 young enthusiast would rather lose his supper, than 

 the opportunity of delightful observation. Again, 

 and louder sounds the clear bell ; it is the prayer- 

 bell ; the boy leaps to his feet ; the little masons 

 disappear with loud flappings of their trowel-like 

 tails; and presto, the scene has changed to the 

 farm-house, where the early evening meal has 

 already ended. It is the thanksgiving hour, and 

 the household kneels to seek, as the last united act 

 of the day, Divine protection. 



"The loving mother has saved the boy's supper 

 and gives it to him, but not without the well 

 merited rebuke for absence from the evening meal. 

 Then the father turns to his paper and his pipe ; 

 the mother gives permission, and John is off like an 



