r
cornfields and from your harvests.

"Even the blackest of them, the crow, does good. He crushes the beetle
and wages war on the slug and the snail.

"And, what is more, how can I teach your children gentleness and mercy
when you contradict the very thing I teach?"

But the farmers only shook their heads and laughed. "What does the
teacher know of such things?" they asked. And they passed a law to have
the birds killed.

So the dreadful war on birds began. They fell down dead, with
bloodstains on their breasts. Some fluttered, wounded, away from the
sight of man, while the young died of starvation in the nests.

II

The summer came, and all the birds were dead. The days were like hot
coals. In the orchards hundreds of caterpillars fed. In the fields and
gardens hundreds of insects of every kind crawled, finding no foe to
check them. At last the whole land was like a desert.

From the trees caterpillars dropped down upon the women's bonnets, and
they screamed and ran. At every door, the women gathered and talked.

"What will become of us?" asked one. "The men were wrong,--something
must be done."

"The teacher was right," said another.

At last, the farmers grew ashamed of having killed the birds. They met
and did away with the wicked law, but it was too late.

[Illustration: The wagon filled with branches and cages]

Harvest time came, but there was no harvest. In many a home there was
want and sorrow.

The next spring a strange sight was seen--a sight never seen before or
since. Through the streets there went a wagon filled with great branches
of trees. Upon them were hung cages of birds that were making sweet
music.

From all the country round these birds had been brought by order of the
farmers. The cages were opened, and once more the woods and fields were
filled with the beautiful birds, who flew about singing their songs of
joy. And again the harvests grew in the fields and filled to overflowing
the farmers' barns.

--_Adapted from_ LONGFELLOW.

THE TRAILING ARBUTUS

I

Many, many moons ago, in a lodge in a forest, there lived an old man.
His hair was white as the snowdrift. All the world was winter; snow and
ice were everywhere, and the old man wore heavy furs.

The winds went wildly through the forest searching every bush and tree
for birds to chill. The old man looked in vain in the deep snow for
pieces of wood to keep up the fire in his lodge. Then he sat down by his
dul