"That was a pretty story, papa," said Maggie.

"Wont you tell us another?"

"Not this time, I guess, my child. But tell me: how would you like to live in a chimney?"

The children laughed at this, and said that it was not possible.

"Well, then, how would you like to live in a garret?" asked Mr. Bondy.

Of course they none of them cared to do that.

"It would be too cold in winter," said Abby.

"And too hot in summer," said Alice.

"And too dark all the time," said Mark.

"I should be afraid of the rats and mice," said Maggie.

"I would shoot them with my gun," said Jimmie, who was very bold when there were no rats and mice to be seen.

"But, my children," said Mr. Bondy, "there are many poor people who have not as comfortable a place as this garret to live in. I have seen them sometimes in a garret with no bed but a heap of shavings or straw to lie on, and no covering but an old, ragged, and dirty quilt. The roof has been leaky and the floor wet with snow or rain, and the wind blowing across the garret, making every one shiver with the cold.

"O it is a sad sight to see a poor sick woman lying in such a place, and dying for want of food, while her children are lying around her in rags, and dirt, and cold, crying for bread which the mother has not to give.

"You ought to thank God, children, who gives you food, and clothing, and kind friends, and a comfortable house to live in; and we ought to help the poor and the sick all that we can."

The children felt sad when they heard about the poor who suffer thus, and Alice said she was sure she would like to help them if there were any such living near.

But by this time the rain had stopped. There was a little blue sky in the west, and soon the golden sunshine came through the garret windows, casting its pleasant light across the floor, and making the old toys and broken furniture look brighter and better than they did when all was dark and gloomy.

Presently the tea bell rang, and they hastened down stairs. They had enjoyed a pleasant afternoon in spite of the rain. Perhaps, if the weather had been fine, and they had gone to the Silver Spring, they might have had a pleasanter time; but then, as Alice said at the tea-table,

"We should not have heard that story about the swallow, nor about the poor people that suffer so much in the cold. I wish I could help them."

"Besides," said Abby, "we can all go to the Silver Spring next Saturday, if it is pleasant; Sam will take us."

And so he did, for the next Saturday was a very fine day, and they all had a grand time.

Thus they enjoyed two pleasant afternoons: one stormy one in the garret, and one bright one by the Silver Spring.

THE END.