in the fields, from which he would spring higher and higher
to sing his glorious song--but now he was a prisoner in a cage.

The little daisy wished very much to help him. But what could she do? In
her anxiety she forgot all the beautiful things around her, the warm
sunshine, and her own pretty, shining, white leaves. Alas! she could
think of nothing but the captive bird and her own inability to help him.

Two boys came out of the garden; one of them carried a sharp knife in
his hand, like the one with which the girl had cut the tulips. They went
straight to the little daisy, who could not think what they were going
to do.

"We can cut out a nice piece of turf for the lark here," said one of the
boys; and he began to cut a square piece round the daisy, so that she
stood just in the center.

[Illustration: So the daisy remained, and was put with the turf in the
lark's cage.]

"Pull up the flower," said the other boy; and the daisy trembled with
fear, for to pluck her up would destroy her life and she wished so
much to live and to be taken to the captive lark in his cage.

"No, let it stay where it is," said the boy, "it looks so pretty." So
the daisy remained, and was put with the turf in the lark's cage. The
poor bird was complaining loudly about his lost freedom, beating his
wings against the iron bars of his prison. The little daisy could make
no sign and utter no word to console him, as she would gladly have done.
The whole morning passed in this manner.

"There is no water here," said the captive lark; "they have all gone out
and have forgotten to give me a drop to drink. My throat is hot and dry;
I feel as if I had fire and ice within me, and the air is so heavy.
Alas! I must die. I must bid farewell to the warm sunshine, the fresh
green, and all the beautiful things which God has created." And then he
thrust his beak into the cool turf to refresh himself a little with the
fresh grass, and, as he did so, his eye fell upon the daisy. The bird
nodded to her and kissed her with his beak and said: "You also will
wither here, you poor little flower! They have given you to me, with
the little patch of green grass on which you grow, in exchange for the
whole world which was mine out there. Each little blade of grass is to
me as a great tree, and each of your white leaves a flower. Alas! you
only show me how much I have lost."

"Oh, if I could only comfort him!" thought the daisy, but she could not
move a leaf. Th