t care if I never see another diamond. The simplest flowers that
grow in the woods are the loveliest jewels God ever made, and so long as
I can have them, the lifeless flowers of the underground world may bloom
for those who do not know of how little value the jewels they prize so
highly really are."

THE END.

EIGHTY YEARS OF A BIRD'S LIFE.

BY MRS. AMELIA E. BARR.

You must understand, my dear young readers, that the Raven of this tale
is not at all an ordinary bird. It is true, he could not sing even as
well as the smallest wren, but then he could talk, and it was generally
believed that he knew a great deal more than the wisest of men and women
supposed. He was, too, the very last representative of an extremely
ancient family of Ravens, who had inhabited some rocky hills just behind
the little cottage for hundreds of years--a family, indeed, so ancient
that they had watched the battle-fields of Celts, Romans, Saxons, Danes,
and Normans, and had had among them very wise birds, who croaked quite
learnedly on the subject.

Now at the bottom of the lofty rocks which they inhabited was a rich and
beautiful valley, and here, four hundred years ago, a Norman lord, who
was a great fighter, built himself a fine castle. The Ravens and he got
on very well together, and became great friends. His hunting and
fighting supplied them with food, and it is said they told him a great
many things that only a bird can know. He called his castle Ravensfield,
and very soon people began to call him Ravensfield, and then the birds
and he grew more friendly than ever. And it is said that when he was
dying he told his son always to be good to the Ravens, for that just as
long as the Ravens lived on Raven's Rock, the Ravensfields would own the
rich lands below it.

For two hundred years everything went well; the knights grew rich and
powerful, and the birds fat and numerous. Then the Ravensfields began to
go to London, and spend money, and do all sorts of foolish things, and
get into all kinds of troubles, and though the Ravens croaked and
croaked until they were hoarse, they would not be prudent, and stay at
home and mind their own business.

So the end of the matter was that every Ravensfield got poorer, and the
fine old castle fell into ruins, and the colony of Ravens among the
rocks also got smaller and smaller, until one morning the last knight of
Ravensfield found in a deserted nest the last of this once powerful
family