will collect all that papa and mama crumble; and, if we cannot by these means get enough, I will spend some of my money in grain for them. Oh, said Frederick, I would give all the money I have in the world to buy victuals for my dear, dear birds.-Hold, my love, said Mrs. Benson, though I commend your humanity, I must remind you again that there are poor people as well as poor birds.-Well, mama, replied Frederick, I will only buy a little grain then. As he spake the last words, the Redbreasts having finished their meal, the mother bird expressed her impatience to return to the nest; and having obtained her mate's consent, she repaired with all possible speed to her humble habitation, whilst he tuned his melodious pipe, and delighted their young benefactors with his music; he then spread his wings, and took his flight to an adjoining garden, where he had a great chance of finding worms for his family..

Master Benson expressed great concern that the Robins were gone; but was comforted by his sister, who reminded him that, in all probability, his new favourites, having met with so kind a reception, would return on the morrow. Mrs. Benson then bid them shut the window; and, taking Frederick in her lap, and desiring Miss Harriet to sit down by her, thus addressed them:

I am delighted, my dear children, with your humane behaviour towards animals, and wish by all means to encourage it: but, let me recommend to you, not to suffer your tender feelings towards animals to gain upon you to such a degree as to make you unhappy, or forgetful of those who have a higher claim to your attention :-I mean poor people—always keep in mind

the distresses which they endure; and on no account waste any kind of food, nor give to inferior creatures what is designed for mankind.

Miss Harriet promised to follow her mama's instructions; but Frederick's attention was entirely engaged by watching a butterfly, which had just left the chrysalis, and was fluttering in the window, longing to try its wings in the air and sunshine: this Frederick was very desirous to catch, but his mama would not permit him to attempt it; because (she told him) he could not well lay hold of its wings without doing it an injury, and it would be much happier at liberty. Should you like, Frederick, said she, when you are going out to play, to have any body lay hold of you violently, scratch you all over, then offer you something to eat which is very disagreeable, and perhaps poisonous, and shut

you up in a little dark room? And yet this is the fate to which many an harmless insect is condemned by thoughtless children. As soon as Frederick understood that he could not catch the butterfly without hurting it, he gave up the point, and assured his mama he did not want to keep it, but only to carry it out of doors. Well, replied she, that end may be answered by opening the window, which at her desire was done by Miss Harriet: the happy insect was glad to fly away, and Frederick had soon the pleasure of seeing it upon a rose.

Breakfast being ended, Mrs. Benson reminded the young lady and gentleman that it was almost time for their lessons to begin; but desired their maid to take them into the garden before they applied to business. During his walk, Master Frederick amused himself with watching the butterfly, as it flew from flower to

flower, which gave him more pleasure than he could possibly have received from catching and confining the little tender creature.

Let us now see what became of our Redbreasts after they left their young benefactors.

The Hen bird, as I informed you, repaired immediately to the nest; her heart fluttered with apprehension, as she entered it, and she eagerly called out, Are you all safe, my little dears?-All safe, my good mother, replied Pecksy, but a little hungry and very cold. --Well, said she, your last complaint I can soon remove; but in respect to the satisfying your hunger, that must be your father's task; however, he will soon be here, I make no doubt. Then spreading her wings over them all, she soon gave warmth to them, and they were again comfortable.

In a very short time her mate returned; for he only stayed at Mr. Benson's to finish his song, and sip some clear water, which his new friends always kept where they fed the birds. He brought in his mouth a worm, which was given to Robin; and was going to fetch one for Dicky, but his mate said, My young ones are now hatched, and you can keep them warm as well as myself; take my place, therefore, and the next excursion shall be mine.-I consent, answered he, because I think a little flying now and then will do you good; but to save you trouble, I can direct you to a spot where you may be certain of finding worms for this morning's supply. He then described the place; and on her quitting the nest he entered it, and gathered his young ones under his wings.-Come, my dears, said he, let us see what kind of a nurse I can make; but an awkward one, I fear; even every mother bird is not

a good nurse, but you are very fortunate in yours, for she is a most tender one, and I hope you will be dutiful for her kindness. They all promised him they would. Well then, said he, I will sing you a song. He did so, and it was a very merry one, and delighted the nestlings extremely; so that, though they were not quite comfortable under his wings, they did not regard it, nor think the time of their mother's absence long. She had not succeeded in the place she first went to, as a boy was picking up worms to angle with, of whom she was afraid, and therefore flew farther; but, as soon as she had obtained what she went for, she returned with all possible speed, and though she had repeated invitations from several gay birds which she met, to join their sportive parties, she kept a steady course, preferring the pleasure of feeding little Dicky to all the diversions of the fields and groves. As soon as the hen bird came near the nest, her mate started up to make room for her, and take his turn of providing for his family. Once more adieu! said he, and was out of sight in an instant.

My dear nestlings, said the mother, how do you do? —Very well, thank you, replied all at once; and we have been exceedingly merry, said Robin, for my father has sung us a sweet song. I think, said Dicky, I should like to learn it.-Well, replied the mother, he will teach it you, I dare say; here he comes, ask him. I am ashamed, said Dicky. Then you are a silly bird, never be ashamed but when you commit a fault; asking your father to teach you to sing is not one; and good parents delight to teach their young ones every thing that is proper and useful. Whatever so good a father sets you an example of you may safely desire to imi

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tate. Then, addressing herself to her mate, who for an instant stopped at the entrance of the nest, that he might not interrupt her instructions, Am I not right, said she, in what I have just told them? Perfectly so, replied he, I shall have pleasure in teaching them all that is in my power; but we must talk of that another time. Who is to feed poor Pecksy? Oh I, I, answered the mother, and was gone in an instant.-And so you want to learn to sing, Dicky? said the father: Well, then, pray listen very attentively; you may learn the notes, though you will not be able to sing till your voice is stronger.

Robin now remarked that the song was very pretty indeed, and expressed his desire to learn it also.-By all means, said his father, I shall sing it very often, so you may learn it if you please. For my part, said Flapsy, I do not think I could have patience to learn it, it will take so much time.-Nothing, my dear Flapsy, answered the father, can be acquired without patience, and I am sorry to find yours begin to fail you already; but I hope, if you have no taste for music, that you will give the greater application to things that may be of more importance to you. Well, said Pecksy, I would apply to music with all my heart, but I do not believe it possible for me to learn it. Perhaps not, replied her father, but I do not doubt you will apply to whatever your mother requires of you; and she is an excellent judge both of your talents and of what is suitable to your station in life She is no songstress herself, and yet she is very clever, I assure you: here she comes. Then rising to make room for her, Take your seat, my love, said he, and I will perch upon the ivy. The hen again covered her brood,