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been fetching many nice things from town for a feast, which our father was secretly preparing for our mother, to surprise her the next day. It was late when we returned, but it was in spring; the sky was bright and clear, and all was so calm that we could hear the gentle murmur of the rivulet by the way, and on all sides the nightingales were singing. I was walking hand-in-hand with my sister, but we were so delighted that we hardly liked to speak. Then our good father came to meet us. Now, I thought again to myself,such must be state of the man who has done much good."

When the boy had finished his tale, the master looked kindly at the children, and then said unanimously—

"Yes, we will become good men.”

ST. OSWALD.

A TRADITION FROM THE GERMAN OF FRANCIS HOFFMAN.

WHEN King Harun returned with the pagans from the chase without the stag, which had run across the mountains back to the camp, and embarked with the rest, while the huntsmen vainly sought for it in the dark and dense forest, the ugly old queen asked her

spouse

"How did you fare at the chase, and where is the stag?" "This has escaped us and disappeared," said the king; "but I can easily get another made of pure gold. I have plenty of gold, and I will order the goldsmiths to begin at once."

The queen laughed bitterly, and exclaimed

"Oh dear, this would be of no use, for the goldsmiths are in their ships, and have started on their journey, taking our daughter with them."

King Harun turned pale upon hearing these words, and was dumb with astonishment; but soon after he roused himself, and gathered up all his strength, and taking his golden horn-a talisman the sound of which could be heard at several miles distance-he blew it repeatedly with all his might, and then said

I knew very well that the raven would bring us mischief. Would I had killed it at once. It is Oswald, King of England, who has carried off our daughter, you may believe me; but, by Muhammed, I shall overtake him, and drown him in the sea."

At the sound of the horn, which everybody recognized, the warriors flocked together, on horse and on foot, armed cap-a-pie, and eager for the fray, enquiring what had happened.

When the king told them, they hastened to their ships and sprang on board; and, to show the rest a good example, Harun himself seized an oar. In this manner they pursued the fugitives. After some days, early one morning, the raven said to King Oswald—

"The enemy's ships are in the distance; they have discovered us, and you will have to sustain a severe battle."

When the royal damsel heard this she became greatly alarmed, and trembled for fear; for she knew her father's wrath as well as his courage, and therefore thought that he would kill every Christian in the ships.

But Oswald said

"Nobody can do us harm if God is with us; be comforted, pious maiden, the Lord is strong and mighty, and will not let us be confounded."

Then he threw himself on his face, and prayed fervently to God that He might help him and all his people. And he made a vow to give to any one who asked him, for God's sake or for his own, for anything he might desire, should it even be land, crown, estate, or life. Now this prayer pleased the Lord, so that soon after a fog crept over the sea, and surrounded the vessels of the pagans, and prevented them from seeing ahead; but the ships of the Christians sailed in sunshine, driven quickly by a strong wind, till they came to a rocky island. Here they took up a firm position, and watched that no harm should overtake them. But the pagans came nearer and nearer, and seeing the ships of the Christians, Harun exclaimed

"Here they shall lose their lives, even were the whole world in league with them!"

The heathen warriors raised a loud battle cry. King Oswald reminded his men not to fear anything; that the Lord would fight for them, and they should be brave in battle for whosoever fell would be carried by angels into Abraham's bosom.

On came the pagans out of their ships, shouting their war cry King Oswald seized the battle standard, held it up aloft, and walked in front, his men all following him.

A terrible fight began; with fierce and heavy blows the Christians and pagans attacked each other. Their helmets were cut in two, their coats of mail burst asunder, and red blood dyed the rocky soil. Oswald fought in front of them all, waving the Banner of the Cross in his left hand, while, with the sword in his right, he cut down the

pagans as a reaper cuts down the corn with his sickle. At the same time he gave advice to his men, telling them where to attack the enemy, while he himself helped the weaker side. The Christians gained ground, and rested not from their toil till evening came, when many thousand pagans were slain, and there was not one left alive, or at least without being mortally wounded, King Harun excepted, who was taken prisoner, after having defended himself bravely. Oswald said to the captive king :

"My liege, I am sorry to see you thus; but it is God's will that I should become your son-in-law. Would to God that you would be baptized and become a Christian."

"That will never happen," replied Harun; "for I cannot believe in your God."

"Oh! glorious and almighty is our God!" exclaimed Oswald. "He has such power that He could give back life to all your dead warriors, if it pleased Him."

"If you can accomplish that by prayers," said King Harun, "I will allow myself to be baptized with all my people."

Then Oswald and all the Christians knelt down and prayed fervently that the Almighty God should perform this miracle for the glory of His Holy Name. And lo! the dead warriors arose as from a deep sleep, and were no longer dead, but living.

But Harun's heart being still hardened, he exclaimed"Up, then, my brave soldiers; let us fight again with the King and his Christians. Up! let us see if we can conquer them with Muhammed's help!”

But the pagans said, unanimously, "No; that we will not do; for we know now that Muhammed is a false God, and that the God of the Christians is a true God. We all wish to be baptized." And they deserted to King Oswald.

Harun turned to Oswald, and said :-"I am now completely in your power, as I well can see. I should like to be baptized with all my men; but the water of the sea is salt and bitter, if a well of fresh water would but spring from yonder rock I should hesitate no longer."

And again Oswald prayed, that for the salvation of the poor pagans, and for the glory of His name, the Lord would do as he did through Moses in the wilderness; and behold, suddenly, clear water ran from the rock.

Then the heathen king repented, and it was as if a bandage was taken from his eyes, and a veil from his soul. He threw himself on his knees, and desired to be baptized, for the right God had conquered his wicked heart, and opened its doors that the sun of salvation might lighten it. He doubted no longer, but believed in the Lord Jesus Christ the Saviour.

So Oswald baptized King Harun, and gave him the name Centimus; then he baptized Harun's lovely daughter, and the three damsels who were with her, and all the pagans, and finished after three days with prayers and supplications.

Their passage to England was now resumed, and King Harun went with them. When the army landed, there came many thousands of Oswald's subjects, bringing gifts and hearty welcome to their king and brethren. Splendid feasts were celebrated, and the whole country was full of rejoicing and the pride of victory. When the festivities were over, Oswald sent forth a messenger to call all the poor together, that they might receive plentiful largess of love.

The king then divided them into ten parties, to each of which he went himself, and distributed gifts to all who were present. Now, after every one had received their share, there came a poor man to Oswald, and asked for a gift, saying God would protect the king.

Willingly shall I grant thy request, poor man," replied the king. But his servants pressed near him, and said :

"Lord and king, this man has been at every one of the ten groups, and has received alms ten times; surely he must have enough now?

The man said

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'Lord, I have a wife and ten children, which I left behind at the inn, and we are in sore need."

"Poor man," replied the king; "bring him twelve loaves and twelve shares of meat; and, here, take these twelve gold pieces, you are welcome to them."

"Now, you had better not come back again," whispered the king's servants to the pilgrim, who went away, and gave all he had unto the most needy of those that were there.

Then he went into the court where the king and Pamiga, her damsels, Harun, and many brave warriors, sat at dinner. He placed himself at the king's table. Now the squires and servants became very angry when they recognized him, and they drove him away from the table. Oswald, seeing this, restained them; and, rising from the table, he took the poor man's hand, and lead him to the hearth. "Here you shall sit," said he, "and I will make them bring to you whatever you would like to eat or drink."

When the king had seated himself at dinner again, there was a dish brought in with roast meat upon it.

"Oswald," cried the pilgrim, "for thy honour's sake, and as God protects thee, let this dish be given to me."

Then Oswald got up, and took it himself to the poor man, so that all present marvelled. Fish and fowls which were taken to the table he likewise asked for. On the table stood a gold drinking cup. The pilgrim looked at it, and then asked for it of the king in the name of God; likewise the table-cloth, which was wrought in gold and silver threads, and many other things. Oswald let it all be given to him. The demands of the man excited the servants in such a manner that they rushed at him with the intention of killing him; but Oswald rose up quickly from his seat, and, ordering the servants away, said

When I was in great danger with my army I vowed to the Lord of heaven and earth that I would grant the request of anyone who should beg of me hereafter, even were it for my crown, kingdom, or life. And this vow I shall keep."

"Well, King Oswald," cried the pilgrim, "remember now thy pledge, and give me all thy possessions, as well as thy sceptre and

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All I possess belongs to the Lord," said the king; "you may

have it."

Now give me thy wife likewise," said the pilgrim.

Then the king looked sorrowfully at his lovely wife, and said--'As the Lord wills. Take her; may it be hier own wish, as well as yours!"

The

queen only said

"God's will be done!"

And Oswald took her by the hand, and led her to the pilgrim, asking him for his ragged garments, and, wrapping them round him, he left the hall.

Then the pilgrim called him back, saying

Oswald, thou hast borne well the test by which thy God has tried thee. Take everything back again, and may you be happy! And lo! while he spoke thus, his face beamed with heavenly splendour. All present fell on their knees and prayed. When they looked up again, the apparition had vanished.

Whosoever is ready to give unto the Lord what He demands, even though it were the best and dearest he has in this world, will be His, and the Lord will bless him for ever-just as He blessed the pious King Oswald.

God's name be praised! Blessed be His holy name, now and for

ever! Amen.

HERMANN AND DOROTHEA.

FROM THE GERMAN OF GOETHE.

The women embraced Dorothea, and the children held fast to her skirts, screaming aloud, and would not let her go, until they were deluded by the promise of a speedy return and plenty of gingerbread. Then Hermann and Dorothea proceeded on their way.

with you. I have myself in vain endeavoured to please my father, though I have surely attended to his fields and his vineyard, even as I laboured for myself. But my mother is well satisfied with me, and appreciates what I do; and if you only take care of the house as if it were your own you will be sure to please her; but it is not exactly the same with my father, who is rather too fond of vain show. My good maiden, do not take me to be a cold and ungrateful son because I say this of my father, for, I assure you, never before did my lips breathe a word of this sort; but I feel that you are worthy of my confidence.

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As I have said, my father loves a little ornament dearly, and demands outward signs of affection and respect; and he would perhaps be better pleased with an indifferent servant, who would use these methods, than with a good, trusty person who neglected them."

"Then," said Dorothea, with great cheerfulness, quickening her pace, "then I hope I shall be able to please both father and mother; for your mother's mind is, indeed, exactly my own, and I have not been unaccustomed to the ornamental parts of domestic life, as the French were our close neighbours, and I learned some of their cus toms in my childhood, and these will suit your father; but tell me this-how shall I please you?"

As she put this touching question they stepped into the shadow of the great pear-tree. And now the full moon was shining, and the last glimmer of sunlight had departed, and before the travellers lay masses of light as bright as day, with the coming deep shadows of night. And it was under the noble tree where he had sat and wept in the morning that Hermann heard this question.

They sat down together on the bank, and Hermann grasped the hand of the maiden, and said—

"Let your own heart tell you how to please me, and follow its biddings in all things."

He could not say another word, though the hour was so favourable; he feared to hear the "No," and again he felt the golden ring upon the finger.

So they sat together in silence awhile, till Dorothea began-"How brightly the moon is shining-almost as bright as day! Yonder, in the house over the trees, I can almost count the windowpanes in the roof.”

That is our house," said Hermann, "and the window you see belongs to my chamber, which, perhaps, will now be yours; for we shall make some alteration in the house: these corn-fields are ours, and to-morrow harvest begins. Here, in the shadow of this tree, we can rest and refresh ourselves. But let us go down through the vineyard, for see! the clouds gather in the sky, and threaten to hide the moon."

Then they arose, and passed through the bright-shining cornfields, and entered the dark shade of the vineyard. He led her down the steep path, where the moonlight glimmered only here and there, and on the uncertain path she rested her hand upon his shoulder for support. But, in going down the slippery steps into the garden, her foot slipped, and she must have fallen had not Hermann spread out his arms as she fell upon his shoulder.

She concealed the pain which spraining her ancle caused her, and said, with a laugh

Meanwhile, several of the people entered the barn, to tell of better lodgings for the poor convalescent. They heard Dorothea's resolu"That betokens unpleasantness, as some people say, when you tion, and uttered many kind blessings on Hermann, and one whis-stumble upon entering a house. Let us wait a moment, until I am pered to anotherbetter, lest your parents should laugh at you for leading home a limping maiden."

"If the master should become a husband it will be happy for

her!"

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CHAPTER IX.

THE CONCLUSION.

HERMANN'S good mother, for the third time, re-entered the back parlour, where the neighbours sat chatting; for she began to be impatient, and talked of the coming storm, the hiding of the moon in the clouds, and the dangers of the night, to which her son was exposed. Then she blamed the friends, who had left the youth to himself in the adventure.

"But," said the father, "I pray you now, mother, make not the matter worse than it is; for you see we are anxiously enough waiting for the end of it."

Then the neighbourly apothecary began, with great tranquillity, to speak

"In such anxious seasons I am always very thankful to my father, who destroyed the root of all impatience in me when a child, and taught me to wait for everything, like one of the seven sages."

"How did he do that ?" asked the curate.

"I will tell you the plan he adopted," said the apothecary, "and everyone may try it upon himself. One Sunday afternoon I stood looking out of the window for the carriage, which was to take us out as far as the spring under the lime-trees: it did not come at the time expected, I ran about like a weasel, here and there, went up stairs

and down, from the window to the door and back again; my hands tingled with impatience; I scratched the table; I pranced about wildly, and was very near crying heartily.

My father, good man, quietly observed all this, until I began to act rather too foolishly in my impatience; then he took me gently by the arm, led me to the window, and spoke thus to me, solemnly, 'Do you see that the joiner's shop across the road is shut up to-day? To-morrow morning early it will be opened again, and you will hear the hammer and the saw; but remember this, my boy, that the morning will come when the master will call his workmen to make you a coffin, and they will bring over here the wooden bed, in which both patient and impatient boys must sleep at last, with a board nailed fast over them."

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All this I saw before me, with my mind's eye-saw the boards nailed together, and covered with the black cloth, and so I sat still, and patiently waited for the coach; and, from that time to this when people are running about in hot impatience for this or for that, I sit still and think of the black coffin."

Then the curate laughed at the apothecary, and said— "The affecting image of death does not stand as a terror before the wise man, nor does the closing scene of existence before the pious man; but impels the one back into life and activity, and gives the other a comfortable prospect of escape from adversity: to both, then, death becomes life!

Now, I blame your father, who showed to you, when an active, lively boy, nothing but mere death in death. Show to the youth the excellence of a ripe, good old age; and show the aged man the bloom of youth, that each may rejoice in the other, and let the circle of life, leading to life, be completed!"

But, as the curate spoke, the door of the back-parlour was opened: the noble pair appeared in the doorway, and the parents and their friends looked upon them with amazement, for the doorway seemed too small to admit the two goodly figures. But Herman handed in the maiden, and placed her before his father.

"Here is the maiden whom you desire," said he. "Dear father, receive her; and mother, you will find her ready to help you in every

way.'

Then he hastily called aside the good curate, and whispered with him

"My good sir, you must now try your skill to rescue me from a difficulty, by untying the knot which I am afraid to loosen; for I have not brought the maiden as my betrothed, but have only engaged her as a maid-servant; and I fear, as soon as she discovers our plot, she will leave the house in displeasure. But let it be soon decided, for I can no longer endure my doubts; put all your wisdom, my good sir, to the proof, in my behalf."

Then the curate turned to the company; but, alas! already the words of the father had troubled the mind of the maiden, though he spoke in good humour, and had no ill meaning.

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Well, my child," said he, "I am not displeased with my son Hermann's taste this time; for I see that he follows the example of his father, who always led the fairest to the dance, and brought the fairest damsel in the town home for a wife. I am pleased; for one may tell by the bride a man chooses whether he feels any worth in himself."

Hermann just heard the words, and trembled to see their effect. The excellent maiden seemed wounded and hurt deeply by the sportive words of the father. She stood with a blush diffused over her cheeks and her bosom; but, collecting herself, she thus made answer to the host of the "Golden Lion."

"Truly, your son did not prepare me such a reception; he described to me his father as a respectable man, and I have no doubt that I stand before a very good and sensible man in some respects; but it seems you have not enough pity for the poor, else you would not so cruelly remind me, the moment that I have crossed your threshold, how far I am removed by my destiny beneath your family. I come to you poor, with this small bundle; but is it noble to drive me at once from the house, where I came ready to serve and be useful, with untimely jests ?"

Anxiously Hermann listened to the curate that he should now take part in the scene, and unriddle the unpleasant mystery.

The good man stepped forward, and quietly looked upon the earnest countenance of the maiden; but he determined not to solve the whole mystery in a moment, but to allow the excellent girl to display something more of her character; so he said

My good maiden, I should imagine that you have not fully considered all the inconveniences that must attend your entrance upon a condition of servitude, to which, probably, you have not been accustomed."

"The word 'yes' or 'no,' in this business, determines the destiny of the year, and many unpleasant things may follow the resolution of a moment. 'Tis not the hard labour that is to be dreaded, for all activity is accompanied with some enjoyment; but to bear the ill

humour of a master who himself does not always know what he wants; the hot temper of an over-anxious, bustling, and neversatisfied housewife, and all the freaks of spoilt children into the bargain. All this, my good maiden, must be considered, and I imagine that you are hardly prepared for it, since you seem so much disturbed by a joke.” "I cannot stay in this house; what would it help me to hide the whole truth, and so conceal the cause of my sorrow in silence, perhaps for long years? I will return to the poor people whom I just now left, in hope of a better destiny for myself; and therefore, I will confess the reason of my sorrow, which else might have remained long secret in my heart. Yes, the jest of this good man has hurt me; not because I am a proud maiden, but because, I confess it, I had indulged a love for this excellent youth, who this morning appeared as our deliverer; and when he had left us, I could not help thinking how happy would be the maiden who should deserve such a husband: and he seemed as good as an angel when he met me at the fountain and engaged me for his mother.

And, I confess it, as I walked home with him, I thought it even possible that I might make myself so useful and helpful to the family that at last I might win him. But now I see the danger into which such thoughts would lead me,--to stay in the house, and cherish such feelings for many long years, and at last see him bring home his bride, that would be sad. But I am warned of the peril, and now I have confessed the truth, that you may know I am not offended at a joke; and I stand here ashamed and confused before you for what I have said.

"But now nothing shall keep me in the house where I have made this confession; not the dark night that has gathered around, not the rolling thunder (I hear it), nor the heavy rain, shall detain me here. I go again to await the call of destiny. Farewell; I can stay no longer here."

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She hastened, with her bundle under her arms, to the door; but the mother ran and clasped her fast by the arms, and exclaimed"What does all this mean? you are not going out, indeed. you not my Hermann's betrothed bride already? The father stared in ill-humour upon the weeping women, and said

"This is all my reward for my patience-that the unpleasantest thing in the world happens just at bed-time. Nothing do I dislike more than to hear women cry, when they make such a stir and confusion of a matter that a trifle of good sense would make smooth in a twinkling. But I am quite tired of it; so settle it among your selves, for I shall to bed."

go

And he turned aside hastily to go up to his chamber, where stood his bed, and where he was accustomed to sleep; but his son held him back, and entreated him—

"Father, be not angry with the maiden, for the whole of the fault is mine; but speak at once, good curate, for I place the whole matter in your hands, and now bring us all to an understanding. I shall not esteem you so highly as I have done, if you do not help us with your wisdom here."

Then the curate laughed, and said—

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'Never mind the grief you felt just now, nor repent of these tears; your confession has assured me of happiness, and now I will make mine. Dorothea, I came not to the spring under the limetrees to engage you for my mother, but to win your love; but I was afraid, for your eyes spoke only of friendship; so forgive my conduct when I brought you home in error: but now, you have made me happy, be happy now yourself."

Then the maiden gazed upon the youth with deep and tender emotion, nor did she refuse, when he embraced and kissed her. Meanwhile, the curate had explained all to the rest of the party, and now Dorothea came, and took the hand of the father, and kissed it, and said

"You will forgive me if I have brought some trouble with me; you will forgive the tears of grief, and now these tears of joy, for this first trouble I have caused shall be the last."

Then the father embraced her, and strove to hide his tears, and the mother clasped her hand, and kissed her, and wept again.

Immediately the curate, with some difficulty, drew the golden ring from the plump finger of the host of the Golden Lion," and said

"All things are ripe and ready; then why should not the pair be betrothed to-night? Here I betroth you, and pray for bliss on your future lives."

"But, as he placed the golden ring on the maiden's finger, he exclaimed

"What! another, betrothed already! " for he beheld the ring

upon her hand, even the same which Hermann had seen at the spring father; "but I believe you must alight on the cross-bars, or you will under the lime-trees."

But Dorothea answered

"Allow me to devote one moment to the kind recollection of the good youth who gave me this ring, when he left his home and never returned.

"When the love of liberty led him away to Paris (where he found only a prison and death), he said to me, as he departed, 'Farewell! I must go, for all things are moving; laws and possessions are changing, friend severs from friend, love from love. I leave you here, and when and where I shall see you again who can tell? "Tis true, indeed, we are but strangers and pilgrims upon earth; more so now than ever! The world seems going back into night and chaos, to begin a new creation. If ever we meet again we shall be new creatures, exalted over the ruins of the old world; but if I never see through these days of peril, then remember me; but remember to live and be happy, add when you gain another home, be thankful and love your benefactor. Live, and use life like other possessions, for all is uncertain.'

"So he spoke, and departed, and I have never seen him since. I thought of his warning voice when I lost all my possessions, and I think upon his words now, as I am entering upon new fortune. Forgive me, dear friend, if I trouble now, as I hang upon your arm; so the new-landed sailor feels the ground heaving like the sea under his feet."

Having thus spoken, she placed the rings together upon her finger, but her betrothed bridegroom said, with noble and manly

emotion

"The firmer be our union, Dorothea, in these days of instability. We will hold fast to each other, and to all that we have, and be firm always; for the man who wavers in wavering times makes the evil worse; but he who stands firm, makes the world firm about him! It is not for true Germans to yield to the commotion, and waver hither and thither, but like good resolute people, to contend for God and law, for parents, for wives, and for children!

"Thou art mine, Dorothea, and all that is mine seems more my own now than ever, and I will keep it, not with care and anxiety, but with strength and courage. So let the Germans say, 'This is ours,' and boldly assert their right. And, were all of my mind now, we would present a firm breast against the foe, and soon should the land enjoy peace."

THE ROBINS.

CHAPTER XVII.

THE OLD ROBINS TAKE LEAVE OF THEIR YOUNG ONES.

As soon as the redbreasts had regaled themselves with the superfluities of the feathered captives, they took their flight to a different part of the garden, in which was a menagerie.

The menagerie consisted of a number of pens, built round a grass plot; in each was a pan of water, a sort of box containing a bed or nest, a trough for food, and a perch. In every pen was confined a pair of birds, and every pair was either of a different species, or distinguished for some beautiful variety either of form or plumage. The wooden bars which were put in the front were painted partly green and partly white, which dazzled the sight at the first glance, and so attracted the eyes that there was no seeing what was behind without going close up to the pens.

The little redbreasts knew not what sight to expect, and begged their parent to gratify their curiosity. Well, follow me," said the

not be able to examine the beauties of these fowls." They did so, and in the first pen was a pair of partridges.

The size of these birds, so greatly exceeding their own, astonished them all; but, notwithstanding this, the amiable Pecksy was quite interested by their modest, gentle appearance, and said she thought no one could ever wish to injure them.

"True, Pecksy," replied the father, "they have, from the harmlessness of their disposition, a natural claim to tenderness and compassion, and yet I believe there are few birds who meet with less; for I have observed that numbers share the same fate as the redstart which you saw die in the grove. I have myself seen many put to death in that

manner.

fatality, and resolved, if possible, to gratify my curiosity. "For a long time I was excessively puzzled to account for this I saw a man kill two partridges and take them away. This very At length man had shown me great kindness in feeding me when I first left my father's nest, so I had no apprehension of his doing me an injury, and resolved to follow him.

"When he arrived at his own house I saw him deliver the victims of his cruelty to another person, who hung them up together by the legs in a place which had a variety of other dead things in it, the sight of which shocked me exceedingly, and I could stay no longer; I therefore flew back to the field in which I had seen the murder committed; and in searching about, found the nest belonging to the poor creatures, in which were several young ones, just hatched, who in a short time were starved to death! How dreadful is the fate of themselves! and how grateful ought those to be to whom the blessyoung animals that lose their parents before they are able to shift for ings of parental instruction and assistance are continued!

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dead partridges, and found them hanging as before; and this was the When the next morning arrived, I went again to see after the case the day after; but the following morning I saw a boy stripping all their feathers off. As soon as he had completed this horrid window of the place she entered stood open, where, to my astonishoperation, a woman took them, whom I ventured to follow, as the ment, I beheld her twist their wings about and fasten them to their sides, then cross their legs upon their breasts, and run something quite through their bodies. After this she put them before a place which glowed with a brightness something resembling the setting sun, which, on the woman's retiring, I approached, and found intolerably hot; I therefore made a hasty retreat; but, resolving to know the end of the partridges, I kept hovering about the house; and at last, looking in at the window, I saw them, smoking hot, set before the man who murdered them, who was accompanied by several others; all of whom eyed them with as much delight as I have seen any of you exhibit at the sight of the finest worm or insect that could be procured. In an instant after this the poor partridges were divided limb from limb, and each one of the party present had his share till every bone was picked.

"There were some other things devoured in the same manner; from which I learned, that men fed on birds and other animals, as we do on those little creatures which are destined for our sustenance, only they do not eat them alive."

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Pray, father," said Dicky, "do they eat redbreasts?"

"I believe not," said he; "but I have reason to suppose they make many a meal on sparrows, for I have beheld vast numbers of them killed."

At this instant their attention was attracted by one of the partridges in the pen, which thus addressed his mate

"Well, my love, as there is no chance for our being set at liberty, I think we may as well prepare our nest, that you may deposit your eggs in it. The employment of hatching and raising your little ones will, at least, mitigate the wearisomeness of confinement, and I promise myself many happy days yet; for, as we are so well fed and attended, I think we may form hopes that our offspring will also be provided for; and, though they will not be at liberty to range about as we formerly did, they will avoid many of those terrors and anxieties in particular." to which our race are frequently exposed, at one season of the year

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"I am very ready to follow your advice," said the hen partridge, and the business will soon be completed, for the nest is in a manner made for us, it only wants a little adjusting; I will therefore set about it immediately, and will no longer waste my hours in fruitless lamentations, since I am convinced that content will render every situation easy in which we can enjoy the company of our dearest friends, and obtain the necessaries of life."

which she was now intent, and her mate followed, in order to lend So saying, she retired into the place provided for the purpose, on her all the assistance in his power.

have had the opportunity of seeing such an example as this. You "I am very glad," said the hen redbreast, "that my young ones now understand what benefit it is to have a temper of resignation.

More than half the evils of life, I am well convinced, arise from
fretfulness and discontent; and would every one, like these par-
tridges, try to make the best of their condition, we should seldom
hear complaints; for there are much fewer real than imaginary
misfortunes. But come, let us take a peep into the next pen.'
Here they beheld a pair of fine pheasants, who were quietly
picking up some grain that was scattered for them; from which
might be inferred, that they had, like the partridges, reconciled
themselves to their lot. The little redbreasts were much pleased
with the beauty of the cock bird; but as there was no conversation
to be heard here, their parents desired them to fly on; as plea-
sures, by which the eye only is amused, are not deserving of long

attention.

shall never forget, turned with fury on his persecutor, whom he beat with his wings with all the strength he had; but it was in vain to contend with a being so much more powerful than himself, and, in spite of all his exertions, he was conveyed to this place.

"But come, let us pick up a little refreshment, and then return to the orchard."

Saying this, he alighted on the ground, as did his mate and her family, where they met with a plentiful repast in the provisions which had been accidentally scattered by the person whose employment it was to bring food for the inhabitants of the menagerie. When they had sufficiently regaled themselves, all parties gladly returned to the nest, and every heart rejoiced in the possession of liberty and peace.

They accordingly hopped to the next partition, in which were For three successive days nothing remarkable happened either at confined a pair of pencilled pheasants; Flapsy was quite delighted Mr. Benson's or the redbreasts' nest. The little family came to the with the elegance of their form and the beauty of their plumage, breakfast table, and Robin recovered from his accident, though not and could have stayed the whole day looking at them; but, as sufficiently to fly well; but Dicky, Flapsy, and Pecksy, continued these birds were also tame and contented, nothing more could be so healthy, and improved so fast, that they required no farther care; learned here than a confirmation of what the partridges had taught. and the third morning after their tour to the grove, etc., they did Our travellers therefore proceeded still further, and found a pair not commit the least error. When they retired from the parlour of gold pheasants. Their splendid appearance struck the young into the court-yard, to which Robin accompanied them, the father redbreasts with astonishment, and raised such sentiments of re-expressed great delight that they were at length able to shift for spect, that they were even fearful of approaching birds which they themselves. esteemed as so much superior to themselves; but their father desiring they would never form a judgment of birds from a glittering outside, placed his family where they had an opportunity of observing thatt his splendid pair had but little intrinsic merit. They were proud of their fine plumage, and their chief employ; ment was walking backwards and forwards to display it; and sometimes they endeavoured to push through the bars of their prison, that they might get abroad to show their rich plumage to the world, and exult over those who were, in this respect, inferior to them. "How hard," said one of them, "it is to be shut up here, where there are no other birds to admire us, and where we have no little ugly creatures to ridicule."

"If such are your desires," said the hen redbreast, "I am sure you are happier here than at liberty; for you would, by your proud, affected airs, excite the contempt of every bird which has right sentiments, and consequently meet with continual mortification, to which even the ugliest might contribute."

Pecksy desired to know if all fine birds were proud and af

fected?

"By no means," replied the mother. "You observed the other two pair of pheasants, who were, in my opinion, nearly equal to these for beauty and elegance. How easy and unassuming were they, and how much were their charms improved by the graces of humility. I often wonder that any bird should indulge itself in pride. What have such little creatures as we to boast of? The largest species amongst us is very inferior to many animals we see in the world; and man is lord over the greatest and strongest even of these. Nay, man himself has no cause to be proud; for he is subject to death as well as the meanest of creatures, as I have had opportunities of observing. But come, the day wears away; let us view the other parts of this enclosure.

On this the father conducted his family to a variety of pens, in which were different sorts of foreign birds, of whom he could give but little account, and would not suffer his young ones to stand gazing at them long, lest they should imbibe injurious notions of them, especially when he heard Dicky cried out, as he left the

pen

"I dare say that bird is a very cruel, voracious creature; I make no doubt but he would eat us all, one after the other, if he could get at us."

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Take care, Dicky," said the father, "how you form an ill opinion of any one on slight grounds. You cannot possibly tell what the character of this stork is merely from his appearance; you are a stranger to his language, and cannot see the disposition of his heart. If you give way to a suspicious temper your own little breast will be in a state of constant perturbation; you will absolutely exclude yourself from the blessings of society, and will be shunned and despised by birds of every kind. This stork, which you thus censure, is far from deserving your ill opinion. He would you no harm, and is remarkable for his filial affection.

do

"I saw him taken prisoner. He was carrying his aged father on his back, whom he had for a long time fed and comforted. The weight of this precious burden impeded his flight, and being at length weary with it, he descended to the ground to rest himself, when a cruel man, who was out on the business of bird catching, threw a net over them, and then seized him by the neck. The poor old stork, who was before worn out with age and infirmities, unable to bear this calamity, fell from his back and instantly expired. This stork, after casting a look of anguish on his dear parent, which I

And now a wonderful change took place in his own heart. That ardent affection for his young which had hitherto made him, for their sakes, patient of toil and fearless of danger, was on a sudden quenched; but, from the goodness of his disposition, he still felt a kind solicitude for their future welfare, and, calling them around him, he thus addressed them—

I

"You must be sensible, my dear young ones, that from the time you left the egg-shell till the present instant, both your mother and have nourished you with the tenderest love. We have taught you all the arts of life which are necessary to procure you subsistence and preserve you from danger. We have shown you a variety of characters in the different classes of birds, and pointed out those which are to be shunned. You must now shift for yourselves; but, before we part, let me repeat my admonition, to use industry, avoid contention, cultivate peace, and be contented with your condition. Let none of your own species excel you in any amiable quality, for want of your endeavours to equal the best; and do your duty in every relation of life, as we have done ours by you. To the gay scenes of levity and dissipation, prefer a calm retirement, for there is the greatest degree of happiness to be found. You, Robin, I would advise, on account of your infirmity, to attach yourself to the family where you have been so kindly cherished."

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While he thus spake, his mate stood by; who, finding the same change beginning to take place in her own breast, she viewed her young ones with tender regret, and, when he ceased, cried outAdieu, ye dear objects of iny late cares and solicitude! May ye never more stand in need of a mother's assistance! Though nature now dismisses me from the arduous task which I have long daily performed, I rejoice not, but would gladly continue my toil for the sake of its attendant pleasures. Oh! delightful sentiments of maternal love, how can I part with you? Let me, my nestlings, give you a last embrace."

Then, spreading her wings, she folded them successively to her bosom, and instantly recovered her tranquility.

Each young one expressed his most grateful thanks to both father and mother, and with these acknowledgments filial affection expired in their breasts, instead of which a respectful friendship succeeded. Thus was that tender tie dissolved which had hitherto bound this little family together; for the parents had performed their duty, and the young ones had no further need of their parental care.

The old redbreasts, having now only themselves to provide for, resolved to be no longer burdensome to their benefactors; and after pouring forth their gratitude in the most lively strain, they took their flight together, resolving never to separate. Every care now vanished, and their little hearts felt no sentiments but those of cheerfulness and joy. They ranged the fields and gardens, sipped at the coolest springs, and indulged themselves in the pleasures of society, joining their cheerful notes with those of other gay choristers which animate and heighten the delightful scenes of rural life.

The first morning that the old redbreasts were missing from Mrs. Benson's breakfast-table, Frederick and his sister were greatly alarmed for their safety, but their mamma said she was of opinion that they had left their nestlings, as it was the nature of animals in general to dismiss their young as soon as they were able to provide for themselves.

"That is very strange," replied Miss Harriet; "I wonder what would become of my brother and me were you and papa to serve us so?"

"And is a boy of six, or a girl of eleven years old, capable of shifting for themselves?" said hier mamma. 'No, my dear child,

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