"At this the children looked at each other, as if wondering what the good master might mean; but he said no more, and they went home thoughtful.
"The next day, after the lessons (which had now become so pleasant) were finished, the children clustered around the master to show him what they had brought.
"Some of the smaller ones had picked up sparkling stones on the road, and as they held them in the sunlight, were sure they must be something bright and precious.
"Some had polished up a shilling, until it shone like a little crown. Heinrich brought a watch-crystal, which his father had given him, and which he considered a wonder of transparent brightness; and Kline, the rich Hoffmeister's son, had brought a paste buckle, made to imitate diamonds, than which, in his opinion, nothing could be brighter.
"All these things were laid on the schoolmaster's desk, side by side. The shillings shone away famously, the pebbles and watch-crystal did their best, but Kline's buckle was the bravest of all.
"'Ah! mine's the brightest!' shouted Kline, clapping his hands.
"'But where is little Carl?' said Master Friedrich. 'He ran out just now.'
"All eyes were turned to the door, when presently, in rushed Carl, breathless. In his hands, held up lovingly against his neck, was a poor little snow-white dove. Some crimson drops upon the downy breast, showed that it was wounded.
"'Oh! master!' cried Carl, 'I was looking for something bright, when I came upon this poor little white dove. A cruel hawk had wounded it, and I caught it quickly, and ran here. Oh! I fear it will die!'
"Even as he spoke, the dove's soft eyes grew filmy; it nestled closer in Carl's neck, gave a faint cry, and died.