alled "soup from a sausage skewer," but "soup from a mouse's tail."
They acknowledged also that some of the stories were very well told;
but that the whole could have been managed differently. "I should have
told it so--and so--and so." These were the critics who are always
so clever afterwards.

When this story was circulated all over the world, the opinions
upon it were divided; but the story remained the same. And, after all,
the best way in everything you undertake, great as well as small, is
to expect no thanks for anything you may do, even when it refers to
"soup from a sausage skewer."

THE STORKS

On the last house in a little village the storks had built a nest,
and the mother stork sat in it with her four young ones, who stretched
out their necks and pointed their black beaks, which had not yet
turned red like those of the parent birds. A little way off, on the
edge of the roof, stood the father stork, quite upright and stiff; not
liking to be quite idle, he drew up one leg, and stood on the other,
so still that it seemed almost as if he were carved in wood. "It
must look very grand," thought he, "for my wife to have a sentry
guarding her nest. They do not know that I am her husband; they will
think I have been commanded to stand here, which is quite
aristocratic;" and so he continued standing on one leg.

In the street below were a number of children at play, and when
they caught sight of the storks, one of the boldest amongst the boys
began to sing a song about them, and very soon he was joined by the
rest. These are the words of the song, but each only sang what he
could remember of them in his own way.

"Stork, stork, fly away,
Stand not on one leg, I pray,
See your wife is in her nest,
With her little ones at rest.
They will hang one,
And fry another;
They will shoot a third,
And roast his brother."

"Just hear what those boys are singing," said the young storks;
"they say we shall be hanged and roasted."

"Never mind what they say; you need not listen," said the
mother. "They can do no harm."

But the boys went on singing and pointing at the storks, and
mocking at them, excepting one of the boys whose name was Peter; he
said it was a shame to make fun of animals, and would not join with
them at all. The mother stork comforted her young ones, and told
them not to mind. "See," she said, "How quiet your father stands,
although he is only on one leg."

"But we are ver