JOHN came home one evening from a ramble in the country with a peach-box under his arm. He set the box very carefully on the back porch and then sat down himself on the top of the box.

His mother was watering some geraniums in a bed near by and paused in her work to look at the lad.

"Where did you get those peaches, John?" she asked, coming toward him with a pleasant smile.

John gave a low laugh. "This is a peach box, mother," he said, "but if what is in it is a peach, it belongs to a new variety, I think. Look at him, he is a beauty!"

"John Bonham, I hope you have not brought another pet to this house! Where in the world are we to stow away all these creatures on one little town lot? There is your groundhog, your owl, the crow, the coot, the tub of fish, the big dog, the little dog, and three Christopher Columbus cats."

"Now, mother, please stop; poor Chuck stays most of the time in his hole under the corner of the house, and the owl keeps the mice out of the cellar, and Jim Crow has not stolen anything for a month except that half dollar and your piece of lace and sister's red ribbon. You said I might have the wash boiler to make a swimming-pool for the coot, and I am going to feed the fish to him, so they will soon be gone and you can have your tub again. I heard you tell Mrs. Bland that our dogs guarded the whole neighborhood from burglars, and my Christopher Columbus cats are cute enough for anyone to be glad to have them. Mrs. Goodall says she 'wants one of them real bad.' You see, mother," said John, persuasively, "this fellow was such a beauty I just had to bring him home. Jake Timmons shot him through the wing as he was carrying off a dove; he was going to wring the hawk's head off, but I told him I would give him ten cents for it, for I wanted to try an experiment with the bird. I know I can tame him and make a pet of him; see, he can move around even if his wing is broken."

John's mother looked through the bars of the peach crate and saw a full-grown hawk with a beautiful brown head, eyes with blood-red rims, a strong, hooked beak, and long talons which he struck angrily into the stick John thrust at him through the bars.

"I never saw a more fierce, cruel-looking bird," she said. "See him tear at that stick! He will be tearing you next."

"I shall give him no chance to tear me, mother, for I intend to tame him."

"You might as well try to tame a tiger."

"Well, I am going to try taming him," said John, in a low, determined tone. When his mother heard him speak in that way she knew his mind was made up to succeed, and he had never yet failed in taming any of his pets.

John put the hawk in his dog-house, the front of which was formed of strong iron bars, and the next day his mother saw him sitting before this improvised bird-cage, going through some fantastic motions with his hands and gently chirping to the bird. No accident happened to the young naturalist in his care of the hawk, and gradually his mother ceased to think of it.

One afternoon, about three weeks after this, the family were seated on the piazza when they were startled at seeing John come around the corner of the house bearing the hawk on his wrist. Over the bird's head was drawn a gay-colored hood adorned with tiny bells and tassels—John had read how hawks were dressed in medieval times, and had made the hood himself. A long string was tied to one of the hawk's legs, and, setting the bird down gently, the boy tied the string to a small tree. All were watching him to see what he would do next, and all kept silence as he lifted a warning hand and uttered a low "H-u-s-h!" He then removed the hood from the bird's head, when it immediately began tearing at the string, snapping viciously at objects near it, and running to and fro in an excited and angry manner.

John seated himself on the ground before the bird and began clucking to it softly, with the index finger of his right hand extended and pointing straight at the bird's eyes; then he turned quietly in whichever direction the bird moved, slowly waving his hand round and round in a circle and never taking his eyes off the bird's eyes.

Gradually the hawk ceased to run about, then stood still gazing steadily, as though fascinated, at John's finger. It would shut its eyes slowly, then open them suddenly, only to shut them again more slowly than before. At first the bird stood perfectly erect; then its head began gradually falling over on its shoulder, and, without any warning, it tumbled backwards, its eyes shut, its legs sticking straight up in the air, its body perfectly rigid. John continued for a time to wave his hand in a circle with the index finger extended; then he walked over to the porch leaving the hawk on the ground, where he lay for nearly thirty minutes, when he gradually returned to consciousness.

A number of persons walking by had stopped in the street to look at John and the bird, and now exclamations of surprise were heard as they saw the actions of the hawk.

"What did you do to that bird?" asked a gentleman of John; "I never in my life witnessed so strange a performance."

"I call that hypnotism," said the lad. "I have been working with him every day since I brought him home, and for a week I have never failed to bring him under my influence and put him to sleep in this way. If I go to the cage to feed him, he flies at me in a great rage at first, but if I pass my finger in a circle before him several times he becomes quiet, and will take a mouse from my hand without biting or tearing me with his talons. Sometimes I partly hypnotize him and lay the mouse at his feet, and although he may be very hungry he will not touch the food until I let him out from under the influence of my finger. When he is over being hypnotized he is as fierce as he was when I brought him home, and I do not believe he can ever be made tame like other birds. Perhaps if I had captured him when he was young, with the down still on him, I could have tamed him, but now he is too old and fierce."

"Well, my lad," said one of the men, laughing, "if he is not tamed you have him pretty well under your thumb and finger at least."

John's wonderful hypnotic influence over the hawk was soon known throughout the town and crowds of people often gathered to see him go through this truly wonderful feat of hypnotizing the fierce hawk.

The hawk belongs to the family of the FalconidÆ, which is so called from the Latin word falcis, meaning a scythe, the talons of the FalconidÆ being curved in the form of a scythe, thus giving the name to the species.

The wings of the hawk are so short they do not extend to the tip of the tail, for which reason it is called an ignoble bird of prey, to distinguish it from the true falcon, the wings of which extend to the tip of the tail and which is called a noble bird of prey. The hawk's bill is short, curved from the base, often terminating in a sharp point called a tooth. They have rather short, exceedingly strong legs and long incurved talons with which they tear their prey.

The species are numerous and widely distributed over the world; the goshawk and the sparrowhawk are the best known and most important. The hawk is a diurnal bird of prey, which means that it hunts in the day time. It flies with exceeding swiftness, having been known to travel a distance of 1,350 miles in twenty-four hours.

The hawk has very acute vision; hence the expression, "Keen-eyed as a hawk." It soars to a great height, always endeavoring to get above the bird it is pursuing in order to swoop down upon it from above. It soars in a series of arcs and against the wind, which helps it to rise as it does a kite. The hawk does not attack its prey with its beak, as is generally supposed, but with its talons. After securing its prey by swooping on it and fastening its claws in its victim it gently descends to the ground.

The young hawk yet in the nest is called an eyas, one that can hop is a brancher, and a young hawk able to catch game is called a soar hawk. Young hawks taken in flying are called passage hawks, and the training of these is called reclaiming.

Hawking was for many years a sport followed by kings and the nobility in Europe. It is of very ancient origin, having been followed in Asia and Europe before the time of the Christian era.

The hawk builds its nest in the forks of a tree or on some inaccessible cliff. The female is larger than the male and lays two or three eggs.