one of those little birdies for me, Frank?"

Frank looked very thoughtful for a moment, and Fanny spoke again.

"Just one; you know there are six little ones."

"I know there are six, Fanny; but you heard how the poor birds cried
and scolded, when I only peeped into the nest; and if I took one away,
what would they do?"

Fanny thought an instant, and then said:

"I did not have six mammas, I only had one; and God took my mamma away
from me, and I am sure the birds could spare me one little one, when
they have six, better than I could spare my mamma, when I only had
one."

Fanny's reasoning seemed very correct to Frank; he was not old enough
to explain the difference to her; so, promising to bring her one of
the birds, he left her, and ran back, over the meadows, while Fanny
kept on her way home, because she knew her grandmother always expected
them earlier on Saturday afternoons. But though she made haste, it
was quite sundown when she reached home. The snow white cloth was
spread upon the table for tea, and Sally was cutting the fresh rye
bread, as Fanny entered the room. Her grandmother sat by the little
table, between the windows, and looked up to welcome Fanny, but
missing Frank, she asked where he was.

"He has gone back to the woods, grandmother, to get"----then Fanny
hesitated, for she remembered how often she had been told, that it was
wicked to rob the bird's nest, and she had not thought it would be
stealing the bird, until now. She felt ashamed to tell her
grandmother, and so she hurried through the room, and went to the
closet to hang up her sun bonnet.

Pretty soon she heard the garden gate swing to, and she ran out into
the back yard, to meet Frank, who was hurrying along with a sober
face, very different from his usual joyous expression. He held his cap
together with both hands, and Fanny's heart beat hard, when she heard
the feeble plaint of the poor imprisoned bird.

"Oh, Frank, I am so sorry," were the first words that she said, "I did
not think that it would be stealing, until I got home, and then I was
ashamed to tell grandmother what you had gone back for. Oh, I am so
sorry."

"And so am I," said Frank; "it almost made me cry to hear the poor
birds fret so. When I took it away, one of them flow close around my
head, and when I ran on to get away from it, I hit my foot against a
stone, and stumbled down, and I am afraid I hurt the bird. All the way
across the meadow, I could hear the old