bed and was soon fast asleep.

In the morning the men came to punish him.

"How do you know that I killed the ox?" he asked.

"Because the bird of truth says that you did," they answered.

"The bird of truth!" he cried. "That parrot is no bird of truth. He will
not tell the truth even about what happened last night. Ask him if the
moon was shining."

"Did the moon shine last night?" the men asked.

"No," answered the parrot. "There was no moon, for the rain fell, and
there was a great storm in the heavens. I heard the thunder half the
night."

"This bird has always told the truth before," said the villagers, "but
there was no storm last night and the moon was bright. What shall we do
to punish the parrot?" they asked the thief.

"I think we will no longer let him live in our homes," answered the
thief.

"Yes," said the others, "he must fly away to the forest, and even when
there is a storm, he can no longer come to our homes, because we know
now that he is a bird of a lying tongue."

[Illustration: "THIS BIRD HAS ALWAYS TOLD THE TRUTH"]

So the parrot flew away sorrowfully into the lonely forest. He met a
mocking-bird and told him what had happened.

"Why did you not repeat men's words as I do?" asked the mocking-bird.
"Men always think their own words are good."

"But the man's words were not true," said the parrot.

"That is nothing," replied the mocking-bird, laughing. "Say what they
say, and they will think you are a wonderful bird."

"Yes, I see," said the parrot thoughtfully, "and I will never again be
punished for telling the truth. I will only repeat the words of others."

THE STORY OF THE FIRST MOCKING-BIRD.

Far away in the forest there once lived the most cruel man on all the
earth. He did not like the Indians, and he said to himself, "Some day I
will be ruler of them all." Then he thought, "There are many brave
warriors among the Indians, and I must first put them to death."

He was cunning as well as cruel, and he soon found a way to kill the
warriors. He built some wigwams and made fires before them as if people
lived in each one.

One day a hunter on his way home heard a baby crying in one of the
wigwams. He went in, but he never came out again. Another day a hunter
heard a child laughing. He went in, but he never came out again. So it
was day after day. One hunter heard a woman talking, and went to see who
it was; another heard a man calling to people in the other wigwams,