his rescuers. His woolly hair, which, in spite of his
great age, was perfectly black at the time when he performed his
toilet, had turned white in the space of two hours.

SIR LASCELLES WRAXALL.

THE BIRD'S NEST.

Deep in a leafy dell we found,
When early Summer wove her crown,
A bird's nest on the mossy ground,
From blooming bough blown down.

Five pretty eggs, quite warm and white,
Were waiting for the brooding wing,
That from each shell there might take flight
A bird, to trill and sing.

The mother sat and grieved apart;
Her song had no rejoicing note.
The sorrow of her wounded heart
Seemed sobbing in her throat.

She thought of all the summer days,
With their sweet sunshine, yet to come;
Of fledgelings echoing God's praise,
While only hers were dumb.

[Illustration: THE BIRD'S NEST.]

THE YOUNG ARTIST.

"Well done, little one! A very pretty tune, and very nicely sung!"

The speaker was a stranger who had just come in sight of the pretty
cottage where Robbie and Maria Barnes lived with their widowed mother,
and outside of which the little singer sat nursing the baby, while
Robbie chopped wood at a little distance.

The widow, hearing a stranger's voice, came to the door, and seeing
that he appeared to have been walking far invited him to come in and
take a rest. This he very gladly did; and while she dusted a chair for
him, Mary brought a mug of fresh milk, and they were soon on very
friendly terms with him.

He said that he was an artist, and that he had come to that part of
the country for a time to take sketches of the scenery around; that he
was at present staying at the village inn, but that he would be very
glad if they could arrange to let him live with them for a few weeks.
This was agreed upon, and on the next day Mr. Page--for that was the
stranger's name--took up his abode in the widow Paul's cottage.

Very pleased Robbie and Maria were with him; and when he came home
from his rambles and sat under the shade of the large tree by the side
of the house finishing the sketches he had taken, they would stand
looking on with wondering interest. Robbie especially, who had never
seen any other pictures than those in his spelling-book, was rapt in
amazement as he saw hills, rivers, flowers, trees and animals start up
into seeming life under the artist's hand. Mr