New Neighbors.—"I see they are building a two-story house in our back yard," said papa.

"O papa, that won't be nice!" said Marjorie. "People will look right into our windows!"

"Yes," said papa; "one of the builders was sitting on my window-sill this morning; but when he saw me he flew away."

"Oh, you mean a bird!" cried Nan.

Blue-Jay on a Spree.—"Naw, sir, I ran him down. He's drunk on mad berry. I didn't shoot him," so said our little stable-boy, John Henry. We examined the beautiful Blue-Jay.

It was lying in the boy's hand, with a sort of contented dolce far niente expression on its face. Its saucy eyes were elated and fearless. Its head wagged ridiculously in the effort to hold it up. It was a common North American drunk, nothing less. The bird was intoxicated on the berries of the Pride of China, known throughout the south as the poison or mad-berry.

In Florida thousands of respectable Northern Robins, that would blush to do it at home, are found lying about in the state of grossest drunkenness from the same cause. We wondered if some blue-ribbon society might not be profitably started among these poor birds. But they do not know any better.

We have this advantage over them, we know the mad-berry when we see it. It is to our disgrace if we do not let it alone.

Serves as Watchman and Wakes the Family.—A Mocking Bird serves as a night watchman at the residence of R. F. Bettes, at Tampa, Fla., and notifies the family of the coming of dawn every morning by pecking on the window pane. Often when the doors are left ajar the Mocking Bird comes inside and perches on the chairs and about the room. It will allow the family to come very close and shows marked attention to Mrs. Bettes and her little daughter. When they start out for a visit it follows them some distance, and then returns to the yard. When the family returns it appears very glad and will fly all about them, and gives evidence of its joy in other ways. The children feed it about the house, and when the family meal is to be served, if the window is not raised, it makes its presence known by pecking on the window. During the day it gets on a neighboring brush or tree and sings its roundelay of song for hours at a time.

A Wonderful Canary.—Mrs. Willet C. Durland, of Union Hall street, Jamaica, is the owner of a Canary possessing extraordinary vocal powers. It never tires of singing, and was the admiration of all who heard it, until eight months ago, when it suddenly, and for no apparent reason, became absolutely silent, uttering scarcely a chirrup for days at a time. Mrs. Durland at last tired of keeping a Canary that did not sing, and, finding a young Chippie bird on the lawn, one day, she put it in the cage and let the Canary go. About sundown that evening, the Canary returned and hopped about on the window sill, evidently making a plea to be received back into the family. This was too much for Mrs. Durland. She put the little creature back in its cage, and the next morning the household was awakened by a flood of joyous song. The Canary has been singing ever since, and the Durlands are sure it considers being set free a punishment for its long silence, and is now trying to make amends.