TRUE STORIES.

'I think,' said Elizabeth, to her mother, the evening after she had related to her and her brothers and sister the wonderful account of the pigeons, that I shall choose a bird.'

'Choose a bird,' said Edward; what do you mean by that?'

'Why don't you know,' said Elizabeth, that father promised me, if I would cure myself of that foolish trick of putting my thumb in my mouth, that he would let me choose what pretty or useful thing I would like to have for my own, and he would give it to me; and that I should choose it all myself, and that neither he nor mother would make any objection, unless I asked their opinion, or wanted something that it was not right for me to have; and that I might please myself if I could.'

'I don't believe you can,' said Edward.

Yes I can,' said Elizabeth, for I know what I want now; I am sure that I want a bird, a live bird, of my own.'

That is not very useful,' said Edward.

'But it is very pretty,' said Elizabeth, and, I don't think it is anything wrong for me to have.'

But are you cured of the trick?' said James. ‹ Yes,' said her mother, she is cured I believe entirely; she has not forgotten her resolution once for a month, she deserves her reward.'

'Yes, mother, once I forgot myself, when I was all alone sitting on the step of the door, and got almost asleep; but I went and told father of it, and he said he would forgive me that once, if I would try not to forget again, and I am sure I have not; for when I go to bed I clasp my two hands tight together, when I go to sleep, so that it would wake me, and make me think, if I were to do it; and in the day time, I can remember it now easily; and besides, since that time, thinking of how good father was, to overlook that once, makes it easier to remember.'

'She deserves it because she spoke the truth,' said James.

'I shall never reward any of you,' said their mother, for speaking the truth.'

'Why not?' said James.

'Because,' said she, you are so much hap pier when you speak truth, than when you

speak falsehood, that you do not want a reward for it; do you remember, James, that night when you told me that you could not say your prayers? and then the reason why, and what an unhappy day you had passed?'

'Yes,' said James.

'You did not want anything after that to remind you of the duty of truth; and if I had offered you a reward for speaking the truth then, you would have felt as you did when that strange gentleman offered you money for picking up his purse, and carrying it to him; you know you were quite affronted with him when you told me of it, and said you did not want to be paid for being honest; your conscience will be so troubled that it will remind you when you speak a falsehood; but as there is nothing wicked in putting her thumb into her mouth, Elizabeth cannot so easily remember it; and therefore I promised her a reward.'

'Well, mother,' said Elizabeth, shall I not have a bird?'

If y

f you continue to wish it,' said her mother.

'Don't you think I shall wish it?'

'No, dear, I don't believe you will.'

What is the reason, mother? Do you

think it is wrong?'

I think, my child, that when you think about it, you will hate to be a jailor to a poor little bird.'

A jailor, mother? why, jailors keep prisoners in dark ugly prisons, and I shall have a beautiful light cage for my bird.'

Still, dear, it is a prison.'

After a moment or two of thought, Elizabeth said, Mother, I had rather you would

I might

advise me about what I shall get; but don't you think if I took great care of him, make my bird very happy?'

'I do not believe, dear,' said her mother, 'that any bird can be as happy in a prison, if it is ever so beautiful a prison, or his jailor is ever so kind, as he would be if he were free to use the wings that God has given him to fly with far away up among the clouds, and over the fields, just where he pleases. Birds that are born in cages are not so unhappy as those that have once enjoyed the sweets of liberty, but they cannot be as happy as free birds. I will tell you a true story of a bird; the lady who owned him told me of it herself. was very desirous of having a Carolina red-bird for the sake of his sweet music, for the note of

She

this bird is very melodious. She accordingly sent for one; it happened that, instead of getting one, as she desired, that had been born in a cage, she received one that had been caught when very young, in the woods. It was autumn when he arrived in this part of the country; she got him a very nice cage, and kept him very warm, for she knew he was not used to the cold; and she fed him with the food he liked best, and, did every thing to make him comfortable and happy; but all in vain: the bird hung his useless wings, his eye lost all its brightness, his little heart was sad, he never sang a single note; he sometimes made an effort "to get out of his cage, but when he found he could not, he would get on his perch, and look so sad that it made the poor lady's heart ache to see him. The bird was not sick, he took his food, but he made no sound, and she feared he would die of a broken heart; so as soon as spring opened, she resolved to set him free. One beautiful day, when all the free birds were singing, when the ground was covered with green grass and fragrant flowers, and the young and tender leaves were coming forth, this lady, who lived in a beautiful place in the country, took the cage that contained