officer came in, and after they had bidden each other good day, he proceeded to tell Fritz that he needed a faithful messenger once more, to warn the general of some secret intelligence he had gained, by which their enemies might fall into his hands.

"Alas!" replied Fritz, "I fear I am helpless to do anything for you now, as you see my poor faithful little carrier is disabled, but I will see what can be done before eventide."

Then the officer departed, after telling him that the message was so important, the bearer might claim any reward he chose.

"Let me try and take the letter," said Bunny, hopping up from her basket, "I dare say I can manage to scramble on that distance."

"No, no, my poor little faithful darling," said Fritz, "you have met with troubles enough already in my service; besides time is a matter of such importance, now."

At this moment Fritz heard a little tap, tap, at the window; and, on opening it, saw the pretty pigeon he had released from his trap.

"Good day, Fritz," cooed the pretty creature, caressing him with her soft bill, "but what is the matter, my friend, you seem in trouble ?"

Fritz told her how he had sent the rabbit with the message, and the misfortune he had met with, so that he was now at a loss what to do.

"Is that all," said the Pigeon, "give the note to me, or rather tie it under my wing: and I will fly there and back in two or three hours, and escape all the dangers by the way."

Then Fritz, in great delight, ran off to his friend the officer, and having obtained from him the important letter, he carefully tied it under the pigeon's wing. She spread her glossy wings, and with a parting nod to Fritz, away she soared into the blue air, lessening every moment, until she became a mere speck, and was then lost to sight altogether.

Fritz, and the officer too, watched most anxiously for her return, but hour after hour passed by and still no pigeon. Night came, dark and tempestuous, and the captain returned

to his camp, giving up the messenger for lost. By and by, Fritz heard a faint tap at the window, and, rushing to open it, he drew in the poor little pigeon, ruffled and wet, and so weary she could not speak. When he drew her to the light, he found she was covered with blood. The note that was tied under her wing was sprinkled with the life-stream that was flowing from her soft wounded bosom.

"My pretty creature," said Fritz, "I had far rather have lost the reward than have gained it at the expense of your life."

The poor little thing fluttered her feathers feebly, tried to touch his hand with her beak, but the bright eyes closed, and she expired. Very sore was Fritz's heart for the loss of his faithful messenger-the pretty creature who had laid down her life in his service.

The intelligence, however, she had so faithfully gained was of the utmost service to the army, and the grateful captain lost no time in placing the claims of Fritz before the King, who appointed him an officer in his army; but though

FRITZ AND HIS FRIENDS.

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he rose in time to great honour and riches, Fritz never lost his old kindness and humanity; and to him many a poor criminal owed his reprieve. His old mother lived all the rest of her life in the utmost luxury, tenderly cared-for by her affectionate son. And Fritz grew in course of time to be a general and a great man; he had large estates and gave grand entertainments. He took for his crest a carrier pigeon; and when he was asked the reason why, he used to tell the story of the gratitude of the rabbit and the pigeon.

"No friends are too small to be of good service!" said Fritz. "Never despise love or friendship, in however small or mean disguise it may come, or perhaps you may send away angels, unawares !"

RT thou peeping from the snow,
Little bud of the flower?

From thy rest so long and deep,
Art thou roused up every hour,

By the warmth that seems to shoot
From the sun down to the root?

Little bud! little bud! it is time thou wert awake.

"I am coming to the light; Every leaflet creeping up, Little child, was folded tight

In the sheath of my green cup, And the dew, the sun, the air,

In my veins thrill everywhere.

Little child! little child! I am waking up at

last!"