fling a nature to suffer it to make you unhappy. After
all, Gregory, there is some room of complaint against you, as it was an
act of injustice to rob the poor bird of its egg. You must have seen how
the hen places her eggs in a nest, on which she sits to warm and animate
them. In about three weeks, from the eggs proceed chickens, which pierce
the shell, and in a few days come and feed out of your hand. This egg,
which you have just now broken, had you left it in the nest, would have
become a sort of chick. The bird you saw fly out of the bush was
probably the mother, who will, very likely, return again to see what
mischief you have done her, and perhaps she will forsake it altogether,
which they frequently do when disturbed.
"Though the loss is only a single egg, yet that perhaps will inform them
that their habitation is discovered, when they have every thing to be
afraid of from our violence. They guess, that when their little ones
shall be hatched, those that robbed them of an egg, will return and
seize upon their infant family. If this nest you have been robbing, for
I cannot call it anything less than a robbery, should be on that account
forsaken, I think you will be very sorry for it."
Gregory replied that it would indeed give him much uneasiness, and
seemed very sorry that he had meddled with the egg. "But," said he to
his mamma, "I had not the least thought of what you have been telling
me, nor did I suppose there could be any harm in bringing it to my
sister, for it was principally on that account that I took it."
His mamma replied, that she readily believed him; for she told him she
was sensible that he had too good a heart to wish to do mischief, merely
for the sake of tormenting others. Gregory was, indeed, a very good boy,
and was as remarkable for his duty to his parents, his tender attachment
to his sister, and his universal benevolence to every one.
The little girl observed to her mamma, that the nest which her brother
had shown her did not in any degree resemble the swallow's nests that
were seen about the corners of the windows of some houses. "My dear,"
replied her mamma, "every nest is not alike, any more than every bird,
some being great, and others little; some are never seen to perch on
trees, while others are hardly ever out of them; some are bulky and
inactive, others slim, and full of cunning and industry; the plumage of
some are beautiful beyond description, with an amazing variety of
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