you with sad wing go in search of me; no more shall I bring you your food, nor shall I more hear your sweet voice, and be glad at the soft coos of the young ones, which you brought up with such care, and were such a kind nurse to! your poor Pa will not be free to guide your flight and teach you what to do." Here his voice fell, and in sad thoughts he was full of grief.

No, my sweet brood

"This dove is not glad," said the hen, "and it is not strange it should be so. But let us hark to the notes of that lark." His eyes were up to the sky, he flaps his wings, he strains his throat and would, to man's eye, seem in great joy, but the Red-breasts saw that he was in great grief. "And am I to be kept in chains in this sad place?" sang he. "Is my high flight to be brought to a check by bars and wires? Must I not soar to the sun and

make the arch of the sky sound with my song? Shall I cease to tell when the day comes, or must I do so in this close sphere? No; you who with me are in chains, still sleep on and take your rest, and may you lose in sleep the thoughts of your past joy. Oh bad man! Did it not please you that I told when the day came, that I could soothe the hours of heat, and add to the joys of eve; but must I, to please your hard hearts, be kept from all that my heart holds dear, and put in a place that I hate. Take your fine food, keep your streams for those who can like them, but let me be free! But why do I talk to you who will not heed my pain?" Here with a look of hate round him his song came to a close.

"What do you think now, Dick?" said the cock. "Have you as high thoughts of the

Q

joy of this place as you had at the first view of it?"

"I can't but think still," said Dick, “that it is a nice place, and that it must be good to have all that one can want, and no toil to get it."

Well," said the cock, "let us move, and look at those birds who build their nests." So they flew to a tree, a branch of which made a shade of the place for the birds, where they could with ease hear all that went on in it, and not be seen.

"Come," said one of the birds, "let us go on with our work, and make the nest, though it will be a sad task to hatch birds that must be kept in this place. The case was not so when we could have the joy to rear a brood which would then be free. Men, it is true, now, with great care give us all we

need, and we make good nests, but I would have more joy had I to seek them.

"What joy have we had to pluck a piece of wool from a sheep's back, to search for moss, to get the best down where all was left to our choice; to stop and rest on the top of a tree which had a long view; to join a choir which we met! But now our days are all the same; change, which gives such joy, we do not know. In place of the songs of joy which then we heard from each spray, sad sounds vex our ears, rage and grief.

"Could we cease to wish to be free, we can't have joy here, if we do not make our hearts hard to all kind thoughts."

66

66

True," said his mate; yet I must try what hard work will do to make us feel our

sad lot less, and I hope as our young ones will

not know what it is to be free, they will not pine for it as we do.”

When she said this, she took up a straw, her mate did the same, and they went on with their work.

Just at this time a hen finch brought forth her brood in full fledge.

"Come," said she, my young ones, use your wings; I will teach you to fly on all sides."

When she so spake, the young ones spread; one flew up, but in the wish to do more than a young bird that flew in the air at the top of the place where the birds were kept, he hit the wires of the dome, and would have come down quick, but that he was caught by a perch.

As soon as he came to, "Why can't I soar as I see birds do?" said he.