"What shall we do with them?" said George. "We must take good care of them, or they will be sure to die." They now returned to the place where they had left their basket, when, to their great vexation, they found it had been overturned and emptied of its contents. "Who can have done this?" said George. "Here is a pretty job indeed: we shall have nothing to eat all day." At the same moment he beheld a dog, with a piece of meat in his mouth, making his way through a gap in a hedge. George sprang after him, and, with a bit of broken bough which he had snatched up in his way, was about to give a violent blow to the animal. "Be "Stop," said a stranger, arresting his arm. fore you beat my dog, let me know what he has done to offend you." "He has eaten our dinner, like a thief as he is," said Charles, who, with the nest in his hand, had now joined them. "That is a harsh word," returned the owner of the dog; " and be sure, before you bestow it on even a dog, you do not deserve it yourself. What is that which you have in your hand? and how did you come by it?" "Why, it is only a bird's nest," replied Charles, looking rather confused. "And who gave you a right to take it?" asked the other. "Nobody," returned Charles. "Then you have taken what did not belong to you," said the stranger, "and are no better than my dog. There is this difference, however, between you and him: he carried off the contents of your basket, which you had negligently left in his way, to satisfy his hunger; while you have robbed a poor bird of her home and young ones through mere wantonness and cruelty. But look that way." The boys did as he desired them. A bird, with an insect in its bill, had approached the bushes near them. Her wings fluttered with joy; but unhappily the spoiler had been to her nest in her absence, and had borne off her young. The instant she discovered her loss, her pinions fell, the morsel she held in her bill dropped to the ground, a shrill note of pain followed, and, hopping restlessly from twig to twig, she showed both by her movements and cry the distress she was enduring. "And was it to gratify the thoughtless cruelty of boys like yourselves," said the stranger, "that the poor bird made her nest so carefully and skilfully, and that she deprived herself of the food she needed, and refused herself the liberty so natural to her? Well, indeed, may you appear ashamed;" for the boys held down their heads, and stood motionless before him. 66 "I am sure," said George, in a low voice, " if I had thought I should have given the poor bird such pain, I would not have touched her nest." "A great many boys do it," said Charles; "it comes natural to one to go bird's nesting. We never meant to distress the old bird." "I dare say not," returned the stranger; "but distress of any kind is not the less felt by those on whom we inflict it, because we did not intend to give it. Want of thought for the comfort of others in our gratification is selfishness in ourselves, and the very reverse of doing to others as we would wish to be done by." "I am very sorry," said Charles, looking at the birds in the nest; "but it is not too late to carry them back." So saying, he carried the nest to its place, and soon saw the old bird return to it. "Let me hope," said the stranger," that you will never be guilty of the same fault again. We can prove our sorrow for past errors only by not repeating them." So saying, he passed on, and the two boys hurried to school as fast as they could. At dinner time they felt very hungry. They made no complaint, however, though they could not help looking at their empty basket with some degree of regret. "It is no more than we deserve," said George; "but I am glad that the little birds will not be obliged to go without their dinner." Then they both resolved never to rob another bird's nest as long as they lived. mead'ōw poş-şessed' sil'ly con-těnts' con-fused' něg'li-gent-ly robbed in'sĕct |