Thus sang little Emily, as she sat one bleak morning looking out from her mamma's window, watching the faded leaves dance along before the wind. Do you not know how she felt as she sat that morning, in a snug parlor, with her high-backed chair placed close against the window, listening to the whistling of the winds, and looking now and then, toward the cold dark sky? I am sure I know just how she felt, as she sang those simple words about the robin, for I have often felt in the same manner myself. Emily was a tender-hearted child, and she loved the robin red-breast very dearly: indeed there was not anything which she did not love; for she often said to her mamma, "Everything belongs to God; therefore I ought to love everything." And so I believe she did. On that morning after she had been singing her little song, she said, "Dear mamma, I wish I could find all the robin red-breasts in the country, that I might keep them in my chamber through the wintry season, until the bright spring days return. Then, mamma, I would throw open the windows, and watch the happy little creatures spread their wings, and go out into the bright world again." Was not Emily a kind little girl?