It grieved Lucy very much to see him so. She put saffron into the water; buds of saffron about his cage; gave him lump? of nice sugar; and spread, every morning, large branches cf fresh chick-weed over his cage; but all to no purpose.
One morning, poor little Pet, for that was the name she gave him, looked more sick than ever. She changed the water and the seeds; though the seeds she had put in fresh the day before, had not been touched. She dressed his case with all the flowers she could find in the month of May, and then went to school with a heavy heart. At noon she came home, and her dear Pet lay on his hack upon the bottom of his cage. His sufferings were all ended. The little bird was dead!
Poor Lucy wept bitterly; this was the heaviest affliction she had ever known. She laid down upon her mother's bed, and sobbed aloud. Mrs. Tracy knew that the sorrows of children are not last ing, though they are severe for the time. She therefore did not, at first, think it best to endeavor to restrain her tears; but she found that if not checked, she would make herself ill. She would not eat any dinner; and she was unfit to go to school in the afternoon. Her mother, at length, said, "My dear child, you must not give way thus to your grief for the loss of a bird. I know that you loved Pet very much, and that he gave you a great deal of pleasure; but you must remember, that sorrow for the death of a bird ought not to unfit you for every thing. Now, by thus crying, you have been obliged to stay from school, and have lost several hours work upon the little frock you were making for your aunt; besides making your head ache so much, that you cannot study your lesson this evening. I feel very much for your grief; but you are old enough to understand that all sorrow which prevents us from doing our duty, is wrong—it is selfish While you were laying upon the bed crying and sobbing, do you think your father and I could enjoy our dinner? I assure you we did not. And your lather went to the store with a very sad countenance. I hope when he comes home, you will meet him with a smiling face, and let him see, that, though you loved your bird very much, you love him more. And I hope, my little girl, you will learn a lesson, from this first sorrow, which will be of use to you all your life, viz. not to feel so strong an attachment to any object, that the loss of it will unfit you to do any thing that it is your duty to do."
Lucy was in general a good girl: and she loved her parents very much, for they were always kind to her; though they never indulged her in any thing they thought wrong. She attended to what her mother said, and was sorry she had grieved them so much. She got up from the bed, washed her face and eyes in cold water, combed her hair smooth, and when her father came home, he found her sewing with her mother She was a little sad; but she cried no more, and answered very pleasantly when any one spoke to her.
A friend of her father passed the evening with them. He saw that Lucy was not so lively as usual, and inquired the cause. He told her he would paint her a likeness of her little bird.
We have said that the bird was not handsome; but he was a very sweet songster. And we trust all our little readers know, that beauty of person alone will never recommend either little birds or little girls, to the affections of their friends.
When Lucy became a woman, though she met with many heavy afflictions, she always kept in mind, that "all sorrow which makes us neglect our duty to our fellow-beings, is selfish, and of course wrong."