a bird as you!
Lift up your proud little crest,
Open your musical beak;
Other birds have to do their best,
You need only to speak!"

6. The nightingale shyly took
Her head from under her wing,
And, giving the dove a look,
Straightway began to sing.
There was never a bird could pass;
The night was divinely calm;
And the people stood on the grass
To hear that wonderful psalm.

6. The nightingale did not care,
She only sang to the skies;
Her song ascended there,
And there she fixed her eyes.
The people that stood below
She knew but little about;
And this tale has a moral, I know,
If you'll try and find it out.

DEFINITIONS.--2. Saun'ter-ing, wandering idly, strolling. Snick'er, to
laugh in a half-suppressed manner. 4. Crest, a tuft growing on an animal's
head. 5. Di-vine'ly, in a supreme degree. 6. Mor'al, the practical lesson
which anything is fitted to teach.

NOTE.--The nightingale is a small bird, about six inches in length, with a
coat of dark-brown feathers above and of grayish, white beneath. Its voice
is astonishingly strong and sweet, and, when wild, it usually sings
throughout the evening and night from April to the middle of summer. The
bird is common in Europe, but is not found in America.

VII. DO NOT MEDDLE.

1. About twenty years ago there lived a singular gentleman in the Old Hall
among the elm trees. He was about three-score years of age, very rich, and
somewhat odd in many of his habits, but for generosity and benevolence he
had no equal.

2. No poor cottager stood in need of comforts, which he was not ready to
supply; no sick man or woman languished for want of his assistance; and
not even a beggar, unless a known impostor, went empty-handed from the
Hall. Like the village pastor described in Goldsmith's poem of "The
Deserted Village,"

"His house was known to all the vagrant train;
He chid their wand'rings, but relieved their pain;
The long-remembered beggar was his guest,
Whose beard descending swept his aged breast."

3. Now it happened that the old gentleman wanted a boy to wait upon him at
table, and to attend him in different ways, for he was very fond of young
people. But much as he liked the society of the young, he had a great
aversion to that curiosity in which many young people are apt to indulge.
He used to say, "The boy who will peep into a drawer will be tempted to
take something ou