Part 2 (1/2)

”We are going to a bird's funeral, Miss Norton,” said f.a.n.n.y, ”and we feel very afflicted.” The teacher had to bite her lips to keep from smiling. Frank noticed it, and said,

”It was Sally, Miss Norton, that put that into f.a.n.n.y's head; but we have reason to feel badly, for if it had not been for us, the little bird would have been alive now.”

When they had told Miss Norton about it, she said that she did not wonder that they should feel bad, and the children saw that they had her sympathy also.

At noon, their grandmother thought there would scarcely be time for them to go down to the woods, and back, between dinner and school time; so the funeral was again postponed.

But after school was out in the afternoon, the children hastened home, and bearing the little box, still covered with the black cambric, they walked slowly down through the meadows, stopping just at the edge of the woods, a few rods from the tree that contained the nest, from which Frank had taken the little bird only two days before.

When they heard the notes of the brother and sister birds, f.a.n.n.y thought, that had it not been for her, the little one that they carried would have been chirping as merrily as they, and this made her cry again.

She sat down on a little mount of gra.s.s, and watched Frank as he prepared the grave. It was a beautiful spot. The broad, green boughs of a n.o.ble oak shaded them from the sun, and a placid little brook wound along through the long gra.s.s and brake leaves at their feet.

Tall stems of blue-bells blossomed around, and modest little daisies sprang from the turf every where. After Frank finished burying the bird, he heaped up the green moss, all about it, and then sat down beside his sister. Putting his arm around her neck, he drew her close to him, while he clasped both of her hands in his.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FRANK AND f.a.n.n.y.]

Her eyes still rested upon the little mount of moss beneath which the bird was buried, and the tears were still welling from them.

”Don't cry any more, dear f.a.n.n.y,” he said; ”don't cry any more, I am sure we have both repented doing so wrong, and we never shall forget how unhappy it has made us. Grandmother has often said that every thing is for the best; and perhaps, this will make us more careful to try to do right--so don't cry any more.”

”I do try not to cry, Franky, and then I think how sweetly the little bird would have been singing to-day, if it had not been for me, and how badly the papa and mamma birds must have felt, when you took it away, and I can't help crying. And perhaps, the little bird will go to heaven, Frank, and it might see our mamma, and tell her how naughty we had been to take it from its nest, and then she would think we were such bad children--oh, dear;” and f.a.n.n.y breathed another long sigh.

For some time the children sat very quietly, occupied with their own thoughts, but at length Frank proposed that they should gather twigs, and make a fence around the grave. Alter this was completed, it looked very neat, and Frank thought that if the birds could see it, they would think it was a very nice little grave.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

CHAPTER IV.

COUNTRY AMUs.e.m.e.nTS AND OCCUPATIONS.

Frank and f.a.n.n.y were permitted to keep pigeons. They had a pigeon house at the back of the barn, with windows opening into the yard, which could be entered by going up into the hay loft, and opening a little door. f.a.n.n.y often went up there to look at the eggs, and play with the young pigeons. Indeed, the old ones were quite tame, and not at all afraid of her.

[Ill.u.s.tration: f.a.n.n.y IN THE PIGEON HOUSE.]

All the various occupations of the neighboring farmers were observed by these children with great attention; because they were desirous of gaining information by their own observation. The ploughing of the ground in the spring, and the breaking of it up with the harrow, to prepare it for receiving grain, such as barley, rye, and wheat, were operations which interested them very much, as well as the sowing of the wheat, and harrowing it so as to cover the seed.

[Ill.u.s.tration: HOEING CORN.]

Then, again, the culture of Indian corn, or maize, was another curious operation. They saw the farmer, after ploughing up the ground, making it into little hillocks with his hoe; each hillock, or hill, as he called it, received a shovel full of manure, before the corn was dropped in, which last operation, Frank and f.a.n.n.y sometimes a.s.sisted their neighbor, Farmer Baldwin, to perform. Afterwards they saw the farmer hoe the corn, loosening the soil round the plant, and cutting up the weeds with his hoe. In summer, they often enjoyed a feast of green corn, roasted or boiled, and when it was gathered, in autumn, they a.s.sisted the farmer in husking it.

[Ill.u.s.tration: SHEEP WAs.h.i.+NG.]

Farmer Baldwin's sheep were objects of great interest to the children, and the little lambs they very justly regarded as types of purity and innocence. When the season of sheep was.h.i.+ng and shearing came, they went over to the farmer's, and witnessed these amusing operations with great delight.

[Ill.u.s.tration: SHEEP SHEARING]

Very sorrowful were they when they heard of the disaster which happened to the good farmer's flock, by the great snow storm. The sheep were in a pasture quite distant from the village, late in autumn, when just before night there came up a sudden and violent storm of snow, and Farmer Baldwin and his hired men got the flock home with some difficulty, losing several lambs in the snow.