"Before you go," said the king, "there is one command I desire to make."
"I await your pleasure, O king."
"Make a right use of your talents, my Crafticus—be straightforward, be straightforward."
"I will, my king, I will."
Old Primeval smiled but said nothing.
Then Crafticus left with a bound, and getting into the presence of his wife and children, they killed him nearly—with kindness.
THE SONG-SPARROW.
The song-sparrow sang a long sweet song. Then he stopped and looked around. Butterflies and bees and other insects were on the wing everywhere, floating, darting and dancing in the sunshine; but the bird did not seek to disturb any of them, he had had a good breakfast of berries, and he was happy.