s one command I desire to make."

"I await your pleasure, O king."

"Make a right use of your talents, my Crafticus--be straightforward, be
straightforward."

"I will, my king, I will."

Old Primeval smiled but said nothing.

Then Crafticus left with a bound, and getting into the presence of his
wife and children, they killed him nearly--with kindness.

THE SONG-SPARROW.

The song-sparrow sang a long sweet song. Then he stopped and looked
around. Butterflies and bees and other insects were on the wing
everywhere, floating, darting and dancing in the sunshine; but the bird
did not seek to disturb any of them, he had had a good breakfast of
berries, and he was happy.

He might well be happy, not only for delicious food and glorious
sunshine and power to sing a lovely song, but for the fact that his
home was near. And in that home were his young ones--his tiny
children,--and his little wife.

So the song-sparrow raised his rufous head, and opening his mouth, and
vibrating his throat, he sang again as if in thankfulness and praise.

"Listen, Richard," said his little mate suddenly, and of course in her
own tongue, "listen, listen." She called him "Richard," but if he were
in a cage people would call him "Dickie."

Richard stopped in the middle of his song, and bending down his head,
while turning his right eye toward a pretty cottage close by, he
listened attentively and with great delight.

"Jenny," remarked he to his tiny wife, when the cottage song was done,
"Master George is at the open window, the beautiful day has stirred his
heart, and he has sung happily and well."

"Yes," said Jenny, "this must be Saturday, for his tone is unusually
bright and happy."

"It is always happy," answered Richard.

"True," said Jenny, "but it is happier to-day."

"Well, be it so, we won't differ, dear."

"That is right, dear husband, we must show a good example to our
children;" and the mother-sparrow nestled her little ones lovingly.

"There is only one thing that makes me anxious in this glad world,"
remarked Richard as he looked down from the bush to the comfortable
nest in the grass.

"What is it husband?"

"I am afraid of that snake I saw gliding outside and round the fence
yesterday."

"Ah, yes," replied the little mother, "it makes my flesh creep to think
of it; but I hope it won't venture into the garden."

"I trust not," said Richard; "but if I were a man, and if I had a gun,
I should make