Mr. Herbert had heard her when she spoke aloud in church, and said, "poor, dear, little birdie;" and he had inquired of Miss Norton about her, and she had told him what a good little girl she was, and how much the death of the bird had grieved her.
FANNY'S LINNET.
He carried the bird in a cage to Fanny, and she was so delighted, she could scarcely speak.
Mr. Herbert told her, that she need not fear that the bird would be unhappy, for it had been born in a cage, and had never been accustomed to any other kind of life. Then he told her where to put the seed, and the water, and the sugar, and how to clean the cage; and Fanny listened attentively, and thanked him so earnestly, while her dark, blue eyes sparkled with delight, that Mr. Herbert felt more than repaid for the trouble he had taken in getting the bird.
The next morning Mary Day stopped, in her way to school. When she saw the cage hanging amid the vines, and heard the clear, sweet notes of the linnet, her heart was stirred with envy. She was a very selfish little girl, or it would have pleased her to see Fanny so happy with her bird; but she looked very cross and sour, as she said,
"So you have got a bird, just because mine is dead."
"Oh, no," answered Fanny, "I never thought of having a bird; but dear, good Mr. Herbert, brought it to me yesterday. I am so sorry that yours is dead."
"You needn't be sorry for me," said the petulant Mary, "I've got plenty of things that you haven't got, and I'd be ashamed to wear such mean clothes as you do."