h. Ha! was
not that a day of triumph to the Sun-starers of Cruachan, when
sky-hunting in couples, far down on the greensward before the ruined
gateway of Kilchurn Castle, they saw, left all to himself in the
sunshine, the infant heir of the Campbell of Breadalbane, the child of
the Lord of Glenorchy and all its streams! Four talons in an instant
were in his heart. Too late were the outcries from all the turrets; for
ere the castle-gates were flung open, the golden head of the royal babe
was lying in gore, in the Eyrie on the iron ramparts of Ben-Slarive--his
blue eyes dug out--his rosy cheeks torn--and his brains dropping from
beaks that revelled yelling within the skull!--Such are a few hints for
"Some Passages in the Life of the Golden Eagle, written by
Himself,"--in one volume crown octavo--Blackwoods, Edinburgh and
London.

O heavens and earth!--forests and barn-yards! what a difference with a
distinction between a GOLDEN EAGLE and a GREEN GOOSE! There, all neck
and bottom, splay-footed, and hissing in miserable imitation of a
serpent, lolling from side to side, up and down like an ill-trimmed
punt, the downy gosling waddles through the green mire, and, imagining
that King George the Fourth is meditating mischief against him, cackles
angrily as he plunges into the pond. No swan that "on still St Mary's
lake floats double, swan and shadow," so proud as he! He prides himself
on being a gander, and never forgets the lesson instilled into him by
his parents, soon as he chipt the shell in the nest among the nettles,
that his ancestors saved the Roman Capitol. In process of time, in
company with swine, he grazes on the common, and insults the Egyptians
in their roving camp. Then comes the season of plucking--and this very
pen bears testimony to his tortures. Out into the houseless winter is he
driven--and, if he escapes being frozen into a lump of fat ice, he is
crammed till his liver swells into a four-pounder--his cerebellum is cut
by the cruel knife of a phrenological cook, and his remains buried with
a cerement of apple sauce in the paunches of apoplectic aldermen, eating
against each other at a civic feast! Such are a few hints for "Some
Passages in the Life of a Green Goose," written by himself--in foolscap
octavo--published by Quack and Co., Ludgate Lane, and sold by all
booksellers in town and country.

Poor poets must not meddle with eagles. In the "Fall of Nineveh," Mr
Atherstone describes a grand review of hi