short work of it."

"Aren't guns wonderful things, husband? How they blow out fire and
smoke, and what a deafening noise they make!"

"They are indeed wonderful, Jenny; but aren't they fearful? Do you
remember how the poor hare fell, although it was far away from the gun
and running like a railway train?"

"I do, Richard; it tumbled over just as the fire burst out, and there
was such a big blood spot on its side. Oh, guns are dreadful things."

"They are, Jenny, and we ought to be thankful that nobody around this
garden uses them," said Richard, with a look of relief.

"Isn't Master George a fine boy?" remarked Jenny.

"He is; he wouldn't hurt a fly--that is, pull off its legs and then its
head and torment it, as wicked youngsters do."

"I love to see him in the garden," said Jenny; "somehow I feel safer
when he is near. He is so big compared with you, Richard, and so kind.
He comes gently towards our nest, and looks down on me with his
interesting, dark grey eyes; then he gets down on his knees, and
stretching out his forefinger he lightly strokes my head and wings,
saying as he does so--'Don't be frightened, birdie, I won't hurt you.'
I was scared at first, and jumped out and flew away; but I don't do
that now."

"Yes, we know our friends," chimed in Richard, "and Master George is
one of them."

The two birds went on speaking to each other this way in praise of the
kindly boy, and then the mother-bird said--

"Sing me another song, Richard; I never tire of hearing your voice.
Sing out, dear, with all your might, and make every one happy far and
near."

Richard was about to open his beak and fill the air with melody, when
his quick eye detected something among the grass. He uttered a sharp
note of warning, and the mother sparrow shrank close into the nest.

"The snake is coming," shouted Richard. But Jenny did not move, she
only kept flat and shuddered.

"Come from the nest, and we will mislead the reptile," cried Richard.

Then both birds flew around and at and over the snake, doing their
utmost to bewilder it; but it was no use--the cunning creature glided
on--it knew its helpless prey was near; and the poor parents were
frantic, as it raised its head and looked around.

* * * * *

"Mother," said George, as he looked into the garden through the open
window, "what can be wrong with our song-sparrows?"

His mother came forward, and seeing the birds fluttering about