A TRUE STORY OF A PARTRIDGE.
I wonder if any of the children who read "The Nursery" have ever been in the woods of Maine. There grow the tall old pine-trees, with tops which seem to touch the sky, and thick interlacing branches, making a very dark shade overhead.
There, too, grow the fragrant cedar-trees, with their bright green boughs, and trunks so hard and stout; and, loveliest of all, the graceful maple, whose green leaves turn crimson and gold when autumn comes.
All these and many other trees grow in the great Maine forests; and birds build their nests and bring up their young among the branches; and under the trees, and all about, grow ferns, and mosses soft as velvet.
Bright-eyed squirrels frisk about over the ground, and run nimbly up into the tree-tops; and pretty brown partridges walk daintily around, picking up seeds and berries to carry home to their baby-partridges, hidden away in soft nests on the ground.
Through a forest like this, where it had always been so quiet and peaceful that the birds and squirrels did not know what it was to be afraid, a railroad-track was laid not long ago. Then the great engine went thundering on its way to a pleasant city by the sea, carrying with it a long train of cars, the smoke curling up brown and thick from the smoke-stack, and the shrill whistle waking the echoes among the distant hills.
One day, when the train was going at full speed through the woods, a partridge, flying from one part of the forest to another, being frightened and bewildered by the noise, dashed against the smoke-stack, and fell at the engineer's feet. The engineer, whose name was Nathaniel Grant, took up the poor frightened bird, gently stroked its ruffled feathers, and carried it carefully to his home.
There the partridge was treated with the greatest kindness, and soon got over its bruises. But it longed for the quiet woods, where its life had been spent. It could not eat, and seemed to be almost breaking its heart with home-sickness.
So the next day, when Mr. Grant started off again on the engine, he took the bird with him. Watching very carefully for the place where the partridge had flown in, he found, at last, the exact spot. There he set the bird free, and away it flew, back to its peaceful home.
Dora's Mamma.
