Just then a large flock had discovered the scattered grain, and flew down near the trap. Each one of the children watched in breathless silence. Several birds entered the box, and chattered and feasted, but the cover did not fall, and the time the children were waiting in silence seemed very long. At length an old, strong bird caught up a grain attached to the string, and gave it a violent jerk. Out came the little prop, and down went the heavy cover, and a jolly old singer was entrapped. He screamed and fluttered, and his frightened companions flew away over the distant meadow.

The children ran to the trap, delighted with the capture they had made, and each one got down on his knees and peeped into the trap. Sure enough, there was Mr. Bobolink. He had on his black dress-coat and white waistcoat and breeches, and a pretty yellow necktie. They all thought him very handsome, and they laid plans for having him put into a nice bra.s.s cage at the front of the house, where they could every day hear his cheerful song. They were all delighted with their prize, and thoughts of much enjoyment went through their minds.

"Take him out carefully," said Robert, as Samuel knelt down to open the box.

"Don't hurt him," said Maggie; and Samuel raised the cover to put in his hand.

There was a flutter and a scream, and Mr. Bobolink flew away, and soared high into the air, and soon joined his travelling companions on their way to Canada.

The children were much disappointed, and when they told their father he laughed heartily, and repeated the old proverb:--

"A bird in the hand is worth two in the air."

MIDSUMMER MORNING.

In my garden hear the lark Carol aloft; Hear the dove her matins sing In answer soft.

The night has fled away; Good morrow! lovely day.

Dawn has touched with fairy finger All things near, Left a dewdrop on each blossom Like a tear Sing! merry thrush, on high To the breaking summer sky.

Cobwebs, quiver in the sunlight Sparkling bright, Daisies ope their starry petals To the light.

So with a rosy dawn Comes up this summer morn!

Horatia Browne.

HOW TODDIE WAS FOUND.

Old Jones, the s.e.xton, toiled slowly up to the Rectory one winter morning. He had a sad tale to tell, and the ground was heavy with snow, and poor old Jones's heart was full of a great sorrow.

The Rectory lay cosily among the sheltering trees, and gleamed warm and cheerful beneath the gloomy skies. Mr. Chillingworth, the Rector, was a good man, and greatly beloved by the people in the parish of Redhall.

Old Jones, as I have said, was the s.e.xton; and he tried his best, with very small success, to keep all the village boys in awe of him. He always went, with them, by the name of "old red Johnnie," for he wore a red woollen comforter through winter's cold and summer's heat.

He had a champion in one boy, however, called Toddie Banks; for you see poor Toddie was an orphan, and old Jones had been very kind to him when he was just a wee toddling laddie, had taken him to his own home, and treated him like a son, for the old man had neither kith nor kin, wife nor child, so Toddie was all of them put together to him.

And now Toddie had been missing for a whole day and night, and Jones had no doubt he had fallen over a precipice, or been lost in some deep snowdrift, for, you must know, Toddie was a bit of a naturalist, and used to take long walks in search of any curiosities he might find.

The poor old man had never been in his bed the whole of the previous night, but had been searching everywhere, helped by some kindly neighbors.

When Mr. Chillingworth understood the whole story, he at once volunteered to go in search of Toddie, accompanied by his splendid Newfoundland dog, Neptune.

"Cheer up, Jones," he said in his kindly way. "Neptune and I will do our best, with the blessing of G.o.d, to find your darling. Go home now, and have everything prepared, in case we find him overcome in the snow."

Neptune was perfectly aware that he and his master were to find Toddie, so he bounded on gayly before Mr. Chillingworth. They had not proceeded many yards before Neptune suddenly stopped, and, listening intently, galloped furiously in the direction of a stream that in summer time was a favorite haunt of Toddie's. On reaching the water he stood still, and, uttering a long, sorrowful howl, remained, evidently waiting for his master.

Mr. Chillingworth hastened up; and there was Toddie, lying to all appearance quite dead. In scrambling up the river bank he had been apparently overcome by the deadly cold and sleep from which few ever waken to life again. He had a bunch of scarlet berries in his hand, and it was pathetic to see the cold stiff fingers still clutching their treasure. Being so near the Rectory, Mr. Chillingworth just lifted the lad and bore him rapidly to his house. What was his joy, after half an hour's untiring effort to revive him, to see Toddie slowly open his eyes, and, by the time old Jones and his neighbors reached the Rectory, Toddie was able to sit up and relate his experiences. It was as the Rector thought; in reaching after the berries he fell, and remembered nothing afterwards. Poor old Jones and Toddie were heroes ever after that, and I am glad to say the village boys ceased to call him "old red Johnnie."

THE HORSE

SUGGESTED BY A LITTLE GIRL OF FOUR.

Oh a strange and curious thing is a horse, Believe or not, as you choose.

For he takes it quite as a matter of course That he goes to bed in his shoes.

And his shoes, which are iron and not soft leather, Are nailed to his feet with pegs And he falls asleep without minding the weather, As he stands upright on his legs

And his hair doesn't grow in the proper place But out of his neck instead And his ears are not at the side of his face, But stand on the top of his head.

F. W. H.

THE TINKER'S VAN.

"Ronald! Ronald! our van has come! John saw it go past the gate whilst we were in school."

"Has it!" exclaimed Fred Norton, no less excited at the news than his brother; "then let's go down at once and have a look at it."

Off ran the two little fellows, and were soon in the village; and there, sure enough, drawn up in a side street, was the van of a travelling tinker. The old horse had been taken out of the shafts and was standing patiently on one side, while the tinker's wife, with her baby in her arms, walked slowly up and down, casting from time to time an anxious look up the street.

Her sunburnt face beamed with a hearty smile as the two boys rushed up to her.

"Here you are, young gentlemen!" she said, with evident delight; "I was looking out for you. I thought you'd see us go by; but my old man, he says, 'Susan, what are you thinking of? Those young gentlemen have forgotten you by this time, for it's six months more or less since we last pa.s.sed by here.'"

"We haven't forgotten you," said little Ronald indignantly. "How could I forget when you were so kind to me? I could not have got home that day I sprained my foot, and then your van came up, and you jumped out and carried me in, and bathed my foot, and brought me home. Why--why--"

stammered the little fellow in his eagerness, "I should be a _pig_ if I forgot you."

"Step inside, sirs," said the woman, quite confused by Ronald's grat.i.tude; "I want you to see how beautiful the clock looks that your mamma gave me. It goes just splendid; my old man _is_ proud of it; it never loses a minute, and yet it gets many a jolt."

The children needed no second invitation. The van was a paradise to them, and they ran up the steps and looked at everything, and everything seemed charming. They longed to possess such a treasure, and thought the tinker and his wife must be the happiest of mortals.

"I should like to live here always," said Fred, as he and Ronald stood at the door of the van and looked out at the scene around them. "It's so jolly free," continued the boy, "so far better than always being in one house; and the cat there, and the c.o.c.ks and hens, and old Dobbin--I'd much rather look at things like that than at the maps and pictures on our schoolroom walls."

"Ah! but you don't know all, sir," said the woman, shaking her head. "I was born in a van, and have always lived in one, but I don't want my little laddie here to lead the life," and she danced the crowing baby in her arms as she spoke. "I hope, by and by, we shall have a little cottage of our own and settle down, and my boy can go to school and learn to read his Bible, which is more than his mother can do, for I never had a day's schooling in my life."

"Can't you read?" said little Ronald in astonishment. "I'll come every day that you stay here and teach you. I'll begin to-night!" and before another word could be said he had darted out of the van and was up the street and out of sight, returning in a very few minutes with a large picture-book, out of which he himself had learned to read.

Ronald was a wise little fellow to have brought a picture-book; for such a work of art had never been seen by the woman before, and if reading was only looking at pictures like that she felt she might manage it after all.