A LITTLE LETTER.
This is a letter written to a little boy about as large as you. James is the name of the boy. James’ uncle wrote it.
The letter.
“Dear James,
Do you want me to write you a little letter about a robin? I think you do. Well; I will write it. Now I will begin. A robin is a bird. A robin has two wings and two legs; he flies in the air; it is his wings make him go. When he comes down to the ground, he hops along on his two legs. When he sees a worm he picks it up with his bill. Do you know what his bill is? It is a mouth. Then he picks it up just as the hen does, and eats it. Now for the story.
Near the house where I live, there is a field; and in the field there is a tree. I was walking in the field, and went near the tree; as I went near it, a bird darted out of the tree, and sung out very loud; it made me start. When I saw it was a bird, I looked among the leaves and branches of the tree, and found there a pretty robin’s nest, and three eggs. Only think, a beautiful nest, with three eggs. I looked at them for a minute, and then went away and left them there. The next day, I walked down to the tree again, to see the nest and the pretty eggs. I pulled away the leaves, but the nest was not there. I stooped down on the ground, looked into the grass, and there I saw the robin. The poor robin was dead, the nest was torn in pieces, and the eggs were broken. I would send you one of the eggs, but it is broken so much, that I think it will not do. When the little robin was alive, he sung pleasantly, he made him a nest, and handsome eggs; but now the robin is dead, the nest is torn in pieces, and the eggs are broken. Poor robin; poor robin.
I have written this story of the robin for little James. I am very sorry that any boy should kill the poor robin and spoil its nest.
This is from your affectionate,
Uncle.”
ROLLO’S DREAM.
One day Rollo’s mother wanted him to do some errands for her. He went on one, reluctantly, but when she gave him another he murmured aloud. “Oh,” said he, “I wish I did not have so many errands to do. What a hard life I lead!”
This gave his mother pain, and he saw it. When he got back from this errand she told him there was nothing more for him to do. Rollo went and stood at the door a few minutes to see if there were any boys out there. But there were none, so he took a story-book in his hand and went down into the garden, and took his seat in the little arbor which his father had made for him, and began to read.
The arbor reminded him of his parents’ kindness, and this made him feel unhappy to think of his unwillingness to help his mother. These thoughts troubled him, and so he could not attend to his book. Presently he got lost in a reverie,—his book dropped over upon his lap. His head gradually sunk down,—and here you see Rollo fast asleep.