hen Red-breast; " though I could not hate birds of far off lands at all times, I must hate the acts of those who seize on the work of our birds. I can't tell why man is so fond of this bird, but it may be that she is the one that first tells that the heat is at hand.

"How sweet a bird is the Swal-low; he comes here to live in our mild air, and does good to the land by the way he kills the grubs. I am glad when I see that race sport in the air, and have had much joy in my talk with them, for they come from far off lands and have much to tell. But come, let us go on." They soon came to a hole in a tree. "Peep in this hole," said the cock bird to his young ones. They did So, and saw a nest of young owls.

What a set of frights!" said Dick; "not one of

you can dare to show his face in the

world, I am sure. When were such dull eyes seen as yours, and such queer plumes?'

"I know not who you are who taunt us with our bad form, but in this you do not show your own good sense," said one of the young owls; we may have that which may make

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us as good as you. You do not seem to know that we are night, and not day, birds; the plumes you see on us are very warm when we are out in the cold; and I can show you a pair of eyes which, if you are young birds, will scare you out of your wits, and if I could fly, I would let you see what else I could do." He then drew back the film which he had got from God that the strong light might not hurt his sight, and gave a stare full at Dick, who was struck all of a heap.

Just then the old owl came back, and when she saw a lot of strange birds look at her nest

M

she set up a screech which made them all take wing. As soon as they stop to rest, the cock Red-breast, who was, in truth, in a great fright, as well as his mate and young ones, came to his nest and said,

“Well, Dick, how did you like the owls' eyes? I think they were more bright than you thought they would be; but had they been as bad as you said, it was quite rude in you to say so. You ought not to blame a bird for ill form that it could not help, since no one gets such by chance, and what seems bad to you, may please the eyes of some. More than this, you should take great care not to hurt the mind of those who you do not know, for you can't tell how good they may be, nor how much ill they may do you. You may think that you are well off if you do not meet one of these owls by night, for I

can tell you they then feed on birds like us, and you need not think they will spare you for what you have said to them.

let us fly on."

But come

But now, ere we tell what more they did, let us go back to their kind friends.

CHAP-TER XVIII.

JUST as Mrs. Ben-son and her son, with Har-ri-et, leave the room when they had seen the Red-breast folk meet round their board, the man came in and told them that the poor thing was at the gate who had been told to come that day. Mrs. Ben-son said that she might come up.

"Well, my poor lass, how does your good man do?"

"Thanks to your kind care and God's, quite well," said she.

"I am glad," said Mrs. Ben-son, “to find you are not so sad as you were the night we saw you, and do not doubt you will do quite well. I will tell them to send you some meat and bread each day this week, and will give you some clothes too for your boys and girls." Har-ri-et's eyes were bright with joy to see her, whose grief had made her so sad, now so glad, and she put her purse in her Ma's hand, and asks her to take it for the poor thing.

six-pence to her.

"You shall, my dear, have the joy of the gift; with your own hands give this two-andHar-ri-et, with a glad heart, which no one but the kind can know, put forth the hand of love. The poor thing took her