e in the _reality_ of talking birds and beasts. To me it appears
plainly that they do not, nor are they inclined to, believe in any such
reality. Observe two or three children at play with a favourite kitten.
When one of them, in mere wantonness, shall give the little animal a rap
on the nose, or a squeeze by the tail, the owner of the cat will
instantly exclaim, "Poor little pussy! she does not like that, _she
says_." Now, the child knows very well that the cat did not say a word
about the matter, but she looked and acted as if she had, and that was
enough.

In the following pages I have endeavoured to make my winged and creeping
correspondents talk in their own characters, according to their
well-known habits and pursuits.

I have added a few notes, sometimes of illustration, and sometimes of
inquiry; for, as natural history is almost a boundless field, I may
stand in need of correction myself. It will be obvious that I have taken
only some of the plainest and simplest subjects, for the purpose of
trying whether any interest can be awakened in young minds by such
means. And as I like to write for children, and think a great deal of
information might be blended with amusement in this way, I hold myself
acquitted of the charge of trifling and puerility, and am the young
reader's friend and well-wisher,

R[OBERT] B[LOOMFIELD.]

THE BIRD AND INSECT'S POST-OFFICE.

[Illustration: MAGPIE.]

[Illustration: Illustration]

LETTER I.

_FROM THE MAGPIE TO THE SPARROW._

LITTLE JABBERER,

I have many times thought of addressing to you a few words of advice, as
you seem to stand in need of such a friend.

You know that I do not stand much upon ceremony; I am always ready for
talking and for giving advice, and really wonder how other birds can
keep themselves so quiet. Then you will pardon my frankness, since you
know my character, when I inform you that I think you remarkably tame
and spiritless: you have no enterprise in you. In an old farmyard,
shuffling amongst the straw, there you may be found morning, noon and
night; and you are never seen in the woods and groves with me and my
companions, where we have the blessing of free liberty, and fly where we
please. You must often have heard me sing; that cannot be doubted,
because I am heard a great way. As to me, I never come down to your
farm, unless I think I can find a hen's egg or two amongst the nettles,
or a chicken or duck just hatched.

I earne