an effect the look
he gave him must have had--fearful!-- Then something even more
horrible happened. The pocket was suddenly shaken, my brother
was pressed against the dying frog and his wings stuck to its
cold, wet body. He went off in a faint.-- Oh, the misery of it!
There are no words to describe it."

"How did you find all this out?" Maya was so horrified she could
scarcely frame the question.

"I'll tell you," replied Miss Loveydear. "After a while the boy
got hungry and dug into his pocket for the carrot. It was under
my brother and the frog, and the boy threw them away first.-- I
heard my brother's cry for help, and found him lying beside the
frog on the grass. I reached him only in time to hear the whole
story before he breathed his last. He put his arms round my neck
and kissed me farewell. Then he died--bravely and without
complaining, like a little hero. When his crushed wings had
given their last quiver, I laid an oak leaf over his body and
went to look for a sprig of forget-me-nots to put upon his
grave. 'Sleep well, my little brother,' I cried, and flew off in
the quiet of the evening. I flew toward the two red suns, the
one in the sky and the one in the lake. No one has ever felt as
sad and solemn as I did then.-- Have you ever had a sorrow in
your life? Perhaps you'll tell me about it some other time."

"No," said Maya. "As a matter of fact, until now I have always
been happy."

"You may thank your lucky stars," said Miss Loveydear with a
note of disappointment in her voice.

Maya asked about the frog.

"Oh, _him_," said Miss Loveydear. "He, it is presumed, met with
the end he deserved. The hard-heartedness of him, to frighten a
dying person! When I found him on the grass beside my brother,
he was trying to get away. But on account of his broken leg and
one eye gone, all he could do was hop round in a circle and hop
round in a circle. He looked too comical for words. 'The
stork'll soon get ye,' I called to him as I flew away."

"Poor frog!" said little Maya.

"Poor frog! Poor frog indeed! That's going too far. Pitying a
frog. The idea! To feel sorry for a frog is like clipping your
own wings. You seem to have no principles."

"Perhaps. But it's hard for me to see _any_ one suffer."

"Oh"--Miss Loveydear comforted her--"that's because you're so
young. You'll learn to bear it in time. Cheerio, my dear.-- But
I must be getting into the sunshine. It's pretty cold here.
Good-by!"

A faint r