. He let us
loose in the grove; and there we have been ever since.

Mr. Wakefield has built little houses for us, and put them on the boughs
of the trees. We go into these houses when it rains hard or blows. Once
the doors of our houses were all blocked up with snow.

The winters here are much colder than in England, where we were born.
More snow falls, and thicker ice forms here. But we like our new home
very well.

Many young sparrows have been born to us. They are proud of being
Americans. They think they are cleverer than their parents, because
their parents, you see, are English. Pride is not right, is it?

There is a bird called the butcher-bird,--a very savage bird,--that
tries to kill us. We have to look out for these butcher-birds. But they
cannot get into our houses: the doors are too small for them.

There is a little bird called the snow-bird, that comes in winter. We
are not afraid of him. He is afraid of us. We drive him away when Emily
feeds us all. Emily calls us naughty when we do this: she threatens to
punish us for it.

Emily and her folks live not far from our grove. Emily has a father and
mother, a grandfather, a brother Philip, and a baby sister, whose name
is Nelly. Grandfather and Nelly are great friends. Grandfather brings
Nelly in his arms to see Emily and Philip feed us.

One day, just as it had begun to snow, we thought we would fly over and
make a call on Emily. She saw us from the window, and came out. Philip
came too. They gave us crumbs and seed. Grandfather brought baby to see
us. We did not fly off when baby said, "Goo!" We were not afraid.

By and by two saucy snow-birds came, and tried to get some of our seed.
We flew at them, and drove them off. But Emily said, "You naughty
sparrows! Let those snow-birds be! They are as good as you are, any
day."

Now, that was not kind in Emily. We think we are better and handsomer
than snow-birds. We were so much offended, that we all flew away, and
left her with her precious snow-birds.

But the next day we were hungry: so we forgave her, and made her a
visit. She was glad enough to see us. So were grandfather and baby.
Those hateful snow-birds kept out of the way.

OLD MR. SPARROW.

THE LITTLE TEACHER.

LITTLE MARY is seven years old. She loves "The Nursery." She has read it
for nearly three years; and her mother says she has learned more from it
than she has learned at schoo