._

Grandma loves her birdy,
And when he gaily sings,
She will laugh and chat with him,
At which he hops and springs.

Fearing though, that birdy
Might not understand,
Grandma from the toy-shop,
Brought a whistle grand.

Tuning now the whistle,
To his sweet bird-note,
He in singing back to her,
Nearly burst his throat,

{234}

Birdy, free outflying,
Often comes to light
On Grandma's tip-of-finger
Or chair-back, pretty sight!

From her hand she feeds him,
And he oft will take
From her mouth the sugar,
With a merry shake.

Yester-morn the window
Being open wide,
Birdy thought it brighter
On the outer side.

Grandma mourning sadly,
Shed of tears a few,
Then she prayed the Father,
"Show me what to do."

Soon she set his cage out
On the window-sill,
Saying, "Birdy'll come now,
Oh, I'm sure he will!"

{235}

Then she, hopeful, praying,
"Bring my birdy home,"
Took the sweet bird-whistle,
Playing "Birdy, come."

And the birdy hearing,
Quickly came and lit
On the cage, and shortly
Flitted into it.

Thankful now was Grandma,
To the dear Lord, who,
Listening to her prayer
Taught her what to do.

{236}

_A BABY'S FAITH_.

Our Maude was dancing with her doll,
In childhood's chattering glee;
A brimming bucket standing by,
The maiden failed to see,
And skipping, tripped; the bucket tipped;
The water, cool and clear, {237}
Was rudely swayed, but, undismayed,
And quickly kneeling near,
Both little hands she spread above
The water's merry surge.
"And what's she doing there," we ask?
No answer, till we urge,
And then, "Why mamma, don't you know
God stilled the waves so wild,
With His great hand? And so I thought,
Although I'm but a child,
That I might still these little waves
With my two hands so small;
And mamma, see, they're quiet now!
But where's my baby-doll?"

* * * * *

_HEALTH AND HAPPINESS_.

Mamma keeps her children
In the happiest mood
When she feeds them only
With the simplest food.
Viands clog and pain them,
Then they fret and cry,
And then when she whips them,
Everything's awry.

{238}

_THE MEADOW QUAILS_.

Over in the meadow where the men make hay,
In an elm-tree shadow on a bright summer day,
Two speckled qu