  I and my little sisters are very fond of the sparrows who come to our garden to eat the crumbs that we throw out for them. We find our cat also likes them, but in a different way. We have been able to rescue several little ones from it, but have never been able to rear them, as they have generally died two or three days after. However, a little while ago we saved one poor little bird from pussy, and placed it in a cage and fed it, as it was too young to look after itself. The cage was placed in my bedroom, with the window open, and we suppose the chirrup of the little prisoner was heard by its parents, and we were pleased to see one of them fly into the room and carry it food. As they seemed so anxious, and we thought they knew better than we how to feed it, we placed the little thing on the window sill, watching near it to prevent it meeting with any accident, as it was too young to fly more than a few yards by itself. It had scarcely been there a few seconds before its mother flew down to it and chattered, as we thought scolding it, but we suppose she was only giving it directions, for the young one laid hold of the mother's tail with its little beak, and, with that assistance, was able to fly away. We watched until it was out of sight, and were very glad to think that the parents had recovered their little one, about which they had shown such anxiety.
| The Showman's Dog. "Poor little chap!" the showman said,
"Your day at last is done,
No more you'll fly at Punch's head,
Or cause the Clown to run,
Poor little chap! you're weak, too weak
To join the Peepshow fun!"
"Out of the road I picked you up,
'Tis years and years ago,
Your leg was badly injured, pup,
Run over as you know.
I bound the limb, and took you home,
And soon you join'd the Show."
"Many a mile we've tramped, old dog,
And many a place we've seen,
And you where'er our feet might jog,
Have faithful ever been.
And rarely a rough or angry word
Has come our lives between."
"Toby I wish that you could speak,
One word in answer say,
No! e'en to bark you are too weak,
Or you would still obey.
I know not what the show will do
When you have passed away!"
Lovingly then poor Toby crept
Towards his master's side
And licked his hand—the Showman wept!
For less things men have cried!
And there full grateful to the last
His old companion died. E. Oxenford. | LINK TO ILLUSTRATED PAGE
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