At supper time Leicester told his papa what they had seen the butcher birds do, and Aunt Dorothy said: “You must tell about it in school, Leicester; it will make a good Monday morning story.”
That evening after Uncle Philip and Aunt Dorothy had gone home and the children had said their little evening prayer Leicester kissed his mother and told her he would try to be a good boy every day for a whole week. “And I hope I will have as good a time next Saturday as I have had to-day,” said he.
And all night long the little stars peeping through the windows saw two happy little faces asleep upon their pillows.
Mary Grant O’Sheridan.
THE RETURN OF THE BIRDS.
I hear from many a little throat
A warble interrupted long;
I hear the robin’s flute-like note,
The bluebird’s slenderer song.
Brown meadows and the russet hill,