The next morning, as the pastor and his wife were in their garden tending their flower-beds, and both longing for the songs of the birds, suddenly the voice of the oriole was heard in the pear tree. He was leaping from branch to branch, singing as if to make up for lost time and as though he could not utter the notes fast enough.
“Here I am!” he said to the pastor. “We have thought the matter over and concluded to let the bells ring.”
The pastor looked up delighted, and his wife shared his joy.
“Did I not tell you,” she cried, “that it would all come right? For when no harm is intended and both sides mean to be fair, though they may sometimes get crooked, they are pretty sure to come straight again.”
JACK AND JENNY.
