stly advise you to change your manner of life and take a little
free air, as I do. Stop no longer in your dull yard, feeding upon pigs'
leavings, but come abroad with me. But I must have done till a better
opportunity; for the gamekeeper with his gun has just turned the
corner. Take my advice, and you may be as well off, and learn to sing as
well as I do.

Yours, in great haste,

MAG.

[Illustration]

LETTER II.

_THE SPARROW'S REPLY._

OLD MAG (I won't say Neighbour),

I was hopping along the top ridge of the house when I received your
insolent and conceited epistle, which does you no credit, but is very
much in your usual style. "Little Jabberer" indeed! and pray, what is
your letter of advice? Nothing but jabber from beginning to end. You
_sing_, you say. I have heard you often enough; but if yours is singing,
then I must be allowed to be no judge of the matter. You say you are
afraid of the gamekeeper; this, perhaps, allows some sense in you, for
he is paid for killing all kinds of vermin.

[Illustration: SPARROWS.]

And so you come down to our farm when you think you can steal something!
Thus, if I did not hide my eggs and my young ones, in a hole too small
for you to enter, I can see pretty plainly how I should come off with
your thieving and your advice.

Be advised in _your_ turn; keep away from our yard, for my master has a
gun too; and your chattering, which I suppose you call singing, he
abominably hates. You will be in danger of catching what the gamekeeper
threatens, and then where is the great difference between your station
and mine?

From my lodging under the thatch of the stable, I am, as you may happen
to behave yourself,

Yours, at a convenient distance,

&c. &c.

[Illustration: SPIDERS.]

LETTER III.

_FROM A YOUNG GARDEN-SPIDER TO HER MOTHER._

DEAR MOTHER,

I cannot exactly tell what happened before I came out of the shell; but,
from circumstances, I can give you some information. When I came to
life, amongst some scores of other little merry yellow creatures, I
found myself, and all of us, enclosed in a thing, through which we, with
our eight eyes, could see very well, but could not instantly get out. I
soon perceived that we, in the egg state, wrapped in a white bag, as you
left us, had been put into a thing called a bottle, by one of those
great creatures whom we always call _striders_; but this was a
particular one of that tribe, who wanted to play t