you hear me ! " and little Mrs. Wren 

 would stand on the edge of the tin-pot 

 and fussily cry krup, up, up, which in 

 Wren language means, you naughty, 

 naughty, birds. 



" I think I am big enough to get 

 out of here," said Pierre one day as 

 he watched her fly away, " bugs and 

 worms must taste a heap better fresh 

 from the ground. I'm tired of baby- 

 food, I am." 



" So am I," piped Emmett, " you 

 try your wings first, Pierre, and if you 

 can fly I will come after." 



" Well, here goes," said Pierre, pois- 

 ing himself on the rim of the pot as 

 he had seen his parents do, "watch me, 

 boys, watch me fly." 



"Well, we are watching you," they 

 chorused, as he spread his wings and 

 flapped them a number of times, " why 

 don't you go ? " 



"I I " stammered Pierre, "oh, 

 there's a cat! "and into the pot he 

 darted and down they all huddled 

 like so many frightened mice. 



Presently Bobbie raised his head 

 and peeped out. 



" I don't see any cat," said he, "and 

 I don't believe you did, either, Pierre. 

 You were only afraid to fly." 



Pierre looked a little sheepish. 



" If you fellows think it so easy, try 

 it," was the mocking reply. " There 

 is nobody here to hinder you." 



"Well, I will," said Bobbie stoutly, 

 and out he crawled onto the edge of 

 the pot, spread his wings, and with 

 one preparatory flap rose in the air and 

 down he came with a frightened 

 " peep " to the ground. 



Bridget at this moment, broom in 

 hand, came out upon the porch to do 

 her daily sweeping. 



" It's lucky for ye's, me darlint," 

 said she, tenderly picking up the 

 helpless bird, " that we do be havin' 

 no cats for tinents on these premises, 

 so it is. A purty soft thing ye's now 

 are in your coat of feathers, and not 

 an ugly little baste, at all, at all." 



" It's quare," she continued, strok- 

 ing the bird with her big red fingers, 

 " what idees the innocent crather do 

 be puttin' into me head for sure. Me 

 hand, for insthance, and the wings ov 

 this little bird ! Two wonderful 

 things, when wan comes to think of it, 

 and very useful. It's sorra crathers 

 we'd both be without 'em, wudn't we, 

 birdie ? There now," placing it in the 

 pot, " take an owld woman's advice 

 and don't ye's be so anxious after 

 leavin' the home nest. Its many a 

 hard arned dollar, so it is, that Bridget 

 O'Flaherty wud give to get back to 

 her own," and with visions before her 

 humid eyes, of Old Ireland and the 

 tumble-down cottage in which she was 

 born , Bridget fell vigorouslylto sweeping. 



(TO BE CONCI/UDED^ 



199 



