cordant croaks," remarked a Robin Redbreast.

"No more hoarse than usual," responded the Raven, in his harsh tones. "I do not pretend to be musical; but you-you little birds -seemed to me to sing very badly."

"It was all the fault of the Tom-tits," cried a Bullfinch; and such a twittering arose at this accusation from all the Tom-tits that were present, that no one's voice could be distinguished.

"We shall never come to a decision at this rate," croaked the Raven.

“Well, then, if it wasn't the Tom-tits, it was-the-the-Wrens," said the Bullfinch.

"As if such poor little insignificant birds had anything to do with the matter," said the Blackbird, disdainfully. "I daresay you Bullfinches deserve a good share of the blame."

And another loud twittering of defence and accusation arose.

"I'll tell you what,-it was the Woodpigeons," cried the Sparrow.

"The Wood-pigeons!" repeated a Thrush in amazement. "Surely their note is always soft and musical."

"Yes, but it was so melancholy that we all felt depressed, and therefore we did not sing so well as usual," asserted the Sparrow. 'Sparrows feel depressed! Ha! ha!"

66

laughed the Raven.

"Then it must have been the fault of some of the Finches," said the Blackbird; whereupon another loud twittering protest arose.

"Gentlemen," said a Magpie, hopping into the circle, "allow me to inform you that you are all right and all wrong."

"Ask the Magpie! ask the Magpie!" cried several voices. "He knows all our different songs and notes. He can tell us where the fault lay."

"Gentlemen, I am happily able to tell you," said the Magpie. "And allow me first to repeat my assertion. You are all right and all wrong."

"Prove it," cried the Sparrow.

"Gentlemen, I am about to do so. You are all right, because the Raven's note is undoubtedly hoarse, the Wood-pigeon's note is undoubtedly melancholy, and the smaller

been owing, however, to the dulness of the weather. But, gentlemen, I must add that you are also all wrong. You are wrong to throw all the blame upon your neighbours, instead of taking it upon yourselves. Let me advise you, in future, first to correct your own faults, and then to consider your neighbour's failings. If each of you will follow my advice in this particular, I have no doubt our next concert will be a great improvement upon the last."

The Magpie bowed and flew away. But the Robin-red breast could not help muttering to the Wren :

"Very true and wise all he says,-only he omits to mention that he himself made various discordant sounds, in endeavouring to imitate some of the other birds, which certainly did not add to the harmony of our performances. It is a pity he does not practise what he preaches."

IV. A FRIEND IN NEED IS A FRIEND INDEED.

H DEAR, oh dear! what shall I do ?" pitifully cried the Fly, as she struggled to escape from the Spider's web, in which she had become entangled. “Will no one help me? Must I be left here to die ?"

Nobody made any answer to this appeal, and two or three flies of her own size flew hastily away.

"Oh, don't all leave me!" pleaded the unhappy prisoner. "If only some one would help me, I might escape; I am not tightly caught."

"You should take care, and not be caught at all," said a Bluebottle, as he buzzed disdainfully past.

"I will-I will take every care in future if you will only help me now to escape. Will you? oh, will you 1?"

"Really, I don't see how you can ask it of me," responded the Bluebottle superciliously. "I might entangle or soil my own wings. You should have been more careful."

"Oh, indeed I should," sighed the Fly. "But it does little good to tell me that now. Mr. Wasp-oh, Mr. Wasp-they say you can

From "the mustard seed" as the emblem of the "kingdom of God," let us learn that great usefulness is not dependent on great opportunities, great wealth, or great wisdom.

It turns rather upon " the single eye," and the whole-hearted offering of ourselves to God, prompting the question of our lives: "Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do?"

"It is such a shocking thing to steal," pursued the Grey Cat. "It becomes such a habit. If you don't conquer it now, you will never overcome it when you are older. You will grow up a confirmed thief; be disliked by every one; and break my heart.”

"I won't," said the Kitten, looking much impressed.

"You see, habits of that kind always grow upon one," said the Grey Cat again. "Don't you agree with me?" appealing to the old Tortoise-shell.

"Very much so," replied the Tortoise-shell. "You don't mean to say that your little one is addicted to stealing ?"

66

"Not often,” said the Kitten deprecatingly. Only just a little milk once or twice."

"A little is as bad as a great deal, if it doesn't belong to you," said the Tortoise-shell, who was the model of an honest, well-behaved cat.

"Just what I have been saying," observed the Grey Cat. "It is very sad-a melancholy fact to contemplate. I can't imagine how a kitten of mine can have so forgotten herself, or what can have put it into her head."

66

"I could tell you that easily enough," said

"Do. What was it, my dear?" asked the Grey Cat unguardedly.

"Well, I didn't see, mother, why, if you took butter out of the larder, I mightn't take milk out of the pantry," said the Kitten, taking care to keep at a respectful distance.

"Ah! I see," said the Tortoise-shell. "I understand now. Take care, Mrs. Grey Cat, that, with all your talking and teaching, you don't, by the mere force of example, turn out your child an arrant thief, probably ten times worse than you are yourself."

And the Grey Cat slunk away without a word to say for herself.

III. WHO TO BLAME.

HE feathered songsters of the forest were in a great state of excitement. And no wonder. For the daily concert which took place amongst the trees all through the summer months, delighting every ear with its sweetness and melody, had for once proved a failure, and much perplexity was excited as to the cause.

So a meeting was at once convened of the principal songsters to discuss the question, and to discover on whom the blame rested. But this was not an easy thing to find out, for every one endeavoured to shift the blame from his own shoulders to those of his neighbour.

"I can inform you to whom part of our failure was owing," remarked the Blackbird, who was a personage of importance, more on account of his size than of his musical powers: "The Sparrows were twittering most disgracefully out of tune."

"It seemed to me that somebody whistled most disgracefully out of tune," muttered a pert Sparrow, who had hopped unasked inio the assembly.

cordant croaks," remarked a Robin Redbreast.

"No more hoarse than usual," responded the Raven, in his harsh tones. "I do not pretend to be musical; but you-you little birds -seemed to me to sing very badly."

"It was all the fault of the Tom-tits," cried a Bullfinch; and such a twittering arose at this accusation from all the Tom-tits that were present, that no one's voice could be distinguished.

"We shall never come to a decision at this rate," croaked the Raven.

"Well, then, if it wasn't the Tom-tits, it was-the-the-Wrens," said the Bullfinch.

"As if such poor little insignificant birds had anything to do with the matter," said the Blackbird, disdainfully. "I daresay you Bullfinches deserve a good share of the blame."

And another loud twittering of defence and accusation arose.

"I'll tell you what,-it was the Woodpigeons," cried the Sparrow. "The Wood-pigeons!" repeated a Thrush in amazement. Surely their note is always

66

soft and musical."

"Yes, but it was so melancholy that we all felt depressed, and therefore we did not sing so well as usual," asserted the Sparrow. "Sparrows feel depressed! Ha! ha!" laughed the Raven.

"Then it must have been the fault of some of the Finches," said the Blackbird; whereupon another loud twittering protest arose. 'Gentlemen," said a Magpie, hopping into the circle, "allow me to inform you that you are all right and all wrong."

been owing, however, to the dulness of the weather. But, gentlemen, I must add that you are also all wrong. You are wrong to throw all the blame upon your neighbours, instead of taking it upon yourselves. Let me advise you, in future, first to correct your own faults, and then to consider your neighbour's failings. If each of you will follow my advice in this particular, I have no doubt our next concert will be a great improvement upon the last."

The Magpie bowed and flew away. But the Robin-red breast could not help muttering to the Wren ::

"Very true and wise all he says,-only he omits to mention that he himself made various discordant sounds, in endeavouring to imitate some of the other birds, which certainly did not add to the harmony of our performances. It is a pity he does not practise what he preaches."

From "the mustard seed" as the emblem of the "kingdom of God," let us learn that great usefulness is not dependent on great opportunities, great wealth, or great wisdom.

It turns rather upon "the single eye,” and the whole-hearted offering of ourselves to God, prompting the question of our lives: "Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do ? "

"It is such a shocking thing to steal," pursued the Grey Cat. "It becomes such a habit. If you don't conquer it now, you will never overcome it when you are older. You will grow up a confirmed thief; be disliked by every one; and break my heart."

"I won't," said the Kitten, looking much impressed.

"You see, habits of that kind always grow upon one," said the Grey Cat again. "Don't you agree with me?" appealing to the old Tortoise-shell.

"Very much so," replied the Tortoise-shell. "You don't mean to say that your little one is addicted to stealing?"

"Not often," said the Kitten deprecatingly. "Only just a little milk once or twice."

"A little is as bad as a great deal, if it doesn't belong to you," said the Tortoise-shell, who was the model of an honest, well-behaved cat.

"Just what I have been saying," observed the Grey Cat. "It is very sad-a melancholy fact to contemplate. I can't imagine how a kitten of mine can have so forgotten herself, or what can have put it into her head."

"I could tell you that easily enough," said

"Do. What was it, my dear?" asked the Grey Cat unguardedly.

"Well, I didn't see, mother, why, if you took butter out of the larder, I mightn't take milk out of the pantry," said the Kitten, taking care to keep at a respectful distance. "Ah! I see," said the Tortoise-shell. understand now.

Take care, Mrs. Grey Cat, that, with all your talking and teaching, you don't, by the mere force of example, turn out your child an arrant thief, probably ten times worse than you are yourself."

And the Grey Cat slunk away without a word to say for herself.

III. WHO TO BLAME.

HE feathered songsters of the forest were in a great state of excitement. And no wonder. For the daily concert which took place amongst the trees all through the summer months, delighting every ear with its sweetness and melody, had for once proved a failure, and much perplexity was excited as to the cause.

So a meeting was at once convened of the principal songsters to discuss the question, and to discover on whom the blame rested. But this was not an easy thing to find out, for every one endeavoured to shift the blame from his own shoulders to those of his neighbour.

"I can inform you to whom part of our failure was owing," remarked the Blackbird, who was a personage of importance, more on account of his size than of his musical powers: "The Sparrows were twittering most disgracefully out of tune.”

"It seemed to me that somebody whistled most disgracefully out of tune," muttered a pert Sparrow, who had hopped unasked into the assembly.

cordant croaks," remarked a Robin Redbreast.

"No more hoarse than usual," responded the Raven, in his harsh tones. "I do not pretend to be musical; but you-you little birds -seemed to me to sing very badly."

"It was all the fault of the Tom-tits," cried a Bullfinch; and such a twittering arose at this accusation from all the Tom-tits that were present, that no one's voice could be distinguished.

"We shall never come to a decision at this rate," croaked the Raven.

"Well, then, if it wasn't the Tom-tits, it was-the-the-Wrens," said the Bullfinch.

"As if such poor little insignificant birds had anything to do with the matter," said the Blackbird, disdainfully. "I daresay you Bullfinches deserve a good share of the blame."

And another loud twittering of defence and accusation arose.

"I'll tell you what,-it was the Woodpigeons," cried the Sparrow. "The Wood-pigeons!" repeated a Thrush in amazement. 'Surely their note is always

66

soft and musical."

"Yes, but it was so melancholy that we all felt depressed, and therefore we did not sing so well as usual," asserted the Sparrow. "Sparrows feel depressed! Ha! ha!" laughed the Raven.

"Then it must have been the fault of some of the Finches," said the Blackbird; whereupon another loud twittering protest arose. "Gentlemen," said a Magpie, hopping into the circle, "allow me to inform you that you are all right and all wrong."

"Ask the Magpie! ask the Magpie!" cried several voices. "He knows all our different songs and notes. He can tell us where the fault lay."

Gentlemen, I am happily able to tell you," said the Magpie. "And allow me first to repeat my assertion. You are all right and all wrong."

been owing, however, to the dulness of the weather. But, gentlemen, I must add that you are also all wrong. You are wrong to throw all the blame upon your neighbours, instead of taking it upon yourselves. Let me advise you, in future, first to correct your own faults, and then to consider your neighbour's failings. If each of you will follow my advice in this particular, I have no doubt our next concert will be a great improvement upon the last."

The Magpie bowed and flew away. But the Robin-redbreast could not help muttering to the Wren :

"Very true and wise all he says,-only he omits to mention that he himself made various discordant sounds, in endeavouring to imitate some of the other birds, which certainly did not add to the harmony of our performances. It is a pity he does not practise what he preaches."

IV. A FRIEND IN NEED IS A FRIEND INDEED.

66

H DEAR, oh dear! what shall I do ?" pitifully cried the Fly, as she struggled to escape from the Spider's web, in which she had become entangled. "Will no one help me? Must I be left here to die ?"

Nobody made any answer to this appeal, and two or three flies of her own size flew hastily away.

"Oh, don't all leave me!" pleaded the unhappy prisoner. "If only some one would help me, I might escape; I am not tightly caught."

"You should take care, and not be caught at all," said a Bluebottle, as he buzzed disdainfully past.

"I will-I will take every care in future if you will only help me now to escape. Will you? oh, will you ?"

"Really, I don't see how you can ask it of me," responded the Bluebottle superciliously. "I might entangle or soil my own wings. You should have been more careful."

"Oh, indeed I should," sighed the Fly. "But it does little good to tell me that now. Mr. Wasp-oh, Mr. Wasp-they say you can