The biggest American eagle in the United States roosts in the state
house in this city. It is the property of Maj. E. J. Anderson, the state
comptroller, and its roosting place is on an imitation rock in the
window of his private office. The bird measures seven feet and eleven
inches from tip to tip of its wings, and it is so tall that if it were
alive and standing on the ground it could pick off a man's waistcoat
buttons without getting on tiptoe. The profusion of little fluffy
feathers on the under sides of the wings, the peculiar markings of the
breast, and the depression in the top of the beak are evidences of the
great age to which the bird had attained before it was killed. Those
skilled in such matters estimate that it must have been at least 75
years old. It is a genuine Washington or American eagle, and probably
its only rival in the country, dead or alive, is at the Smithsonian
institute at Washington, but the specimen there is smaller.
The graceful yet powerful pose of this bird and the magnificent sweep of
its wings show clearly how great a libel upon the bird of freedom is the
atrocious figure that attempts to soar over the bundle of sticks on the
back of the buzzard dollars of the present day. If the government will
send an artist to Trenton it can obtain a model from which it can make a
dollar that will not bring the blush of shame to the cheek of every
American who has to spend it.
Maj. Anderson's eagle was shot in Hunterdon county, in this state. The
bird is one of the most rare in the country, and it is scarcely ever
even seen near the haunts of civilization. It is supposed that advanced
age had made this bird unable to successfully pursue and capture the
game of the wilderness, and that therefore it had ventured into settled
regions for tamer prey. It was found near a farmer's barn, and the
farmer filled it full of lead from a shotgun and a revolver without
killing it, and finally captured it alive, having disabled it by wounds
in the wing. It was taken to the village station, and lived there on
exhibition a day or two before it died. It was then given to Maj.
Anderson, who had it stuffed and mounted, and guards it now with the
tenderness and pride of a young father. He has refused for it offers
running well into the hundreds of dollars.--Trenton Cor. New York Sun.