Ben was visiting his cousin Hugh in the country, and they had been having a glorious time getting chestnuts. They started early in the morning, taking their dinners with them that they might have all day in the woods. There had been a sharp frost the night before, and the boys had a merry time as the wind rattled the brown chestnuts down on their heads. Bags and pockets were soon full to overflowing, and after eating their lunch by the brook they started for home.
"Now for a feast of roast chestnuts," said Ben, as they sat down by the fireplace, after the good warm supper which Hugh's mother had ready for them. "I will roast them and you can pull off the shells when they are done."
What fun it was to see the nuts jump around in the shovel Ben was using for a roaster, till their brown shells burst open with the heat!
"We will roast a whole bagful," said Hugh, "then there will be some for sister Lucy."
To be sure, Hugh burnt his fingers, and Ben dropped some chestnuts into the fire, but they only laughed the merrier. Lucy joined them after she had finished helping her mother with the work, and together they ate the chestnuts and played games till bedtime came, when they all agreed it had been one of the happiest days of their lives.
A SPARROW STORY.
I and my little sisters are very fond of the sparrows who come to our garden to eat the crumbs that we throw out for them. We find our cat also likes them, but in a different way. We have been able to rescue several little ones from it, but have never been able to rear them, as they have generally died two or three days after. However, a little while ago we saved one poor little bird from pussy, and placed it in a cage and fed it, as it was too young to look after itself. The cage was placed in my bedroom, with the window open, and we suppose the chirrup of the little prisoner was heard by its parents, and we were pleased to see one of them fly into the room and carry it food. As they seemed so anxious, and we thought they knew better than we how to feed it, we placed the little thing on the window sill, watching near it to prevent it meeting with any accident, as it was too young to fly more than a few yards by itself. It had scarcely been there a few seconds before its mother flew down to it and chattered, as we thought scolding it, but we suppose she was only giving it directions, for the young one laid hold of the mother's tail with its little beak, and, with that assistance, was able to fly away.