who enjoyed the happy privilege of being present now and then at the performances of Dan's clever troupe. Even when old age crept upon it, the same respect was shown to the leader of the company. Its sight grew dim, its legs grew scaly, its feathers grew ragged. What matter? Had it not been kind and gentle to them when in its prime? Should they not be kind and gentle to it now that Time was striking it down? And was it not, even in its decrepitude, the wise bird of them all? Although it grew more and more shaky every hour, the old sense of duty was strong in the heart of Golden Cloud, and it strove to take part in the performances to the last. Golden Cloud had learned the lesson that to try always to do one's duty is the sweetest thing in life. In that respect, it was wiser than many human beings who should have been wiser than it. It was a melancholy sight, yet a comical one, to see Golden Cloud lift a sword with its beak, and try to hold it there, and hop with it at the head of the company. It staggered here and there, and being almost blind, sometimes hit an inoffensive bird across the beak. This would cause some confusion for a moment, but everything was set right as quickly as could be. The other birds bore with patience Golden Cloud's weakness, and made its labor light for it. The saucy tomtit, with its crown of blue, was the most refractory pupil in Dan's company. It would turn heels over head in the midst of a serious lesson, it would hop and twist about, and disturb its more steady companions with its restless tricks. Yet, even this reckless bird was subdued and tamed by Golden Cloud's firmness, and assisted the veteran in its old age. One evening Joshua came round to Dan's room later than usual. He found Dan in tears. "What is the matter, Dan?" asked Joshua. Dan made no reply. "Do your legs hurt you, Dan?" asked Joshua, tenderly. Dan shook his head, but uttered no sound. Joshua thought it best not to tease his friend with any more questions. He knew that Dan would tell his grief soon, so he took his accordion on his knee and began to play very softly. As he played, a canary in a mourning-cloak came out of the loghouse; another canary in a mourning-cloak followed; then a bullfinch, and another bullfinch, then the tomtits and the linnets, and last, the blackbirds, all in mourning cloaks. The nimble fingers of Dan's sister Ellen had made these little black cloaks for the birds that day out of a piece of the lining of an old frock. At the sight of the first canary, with its black cloak on, Joshua was filled with astonishment; but when bird after bird followed and ranged themselves solemnly in line before him he solved the riddle of their strange appearance. He missed the presence of one familiar friend; the birds were in mourning for the death of Golden Cloud. They seemed to know that they had lost a friend, and that they were about to pay the last tribute of respect to one who had been their guide and master. The bullfinches, with their crimson breasts hidden by the cloaks, looked like blackbirds in mourning, and, the amiable linnets, shy as they generally were, were still more quiet and sad than usual. Even the daring blackbirds were subdued, with the exception of one, who, in the midst of a silence, struck up a shrill whistle, but seeing the eyes of the tomtit fixed upon it, with an air of reproach, stopped in sudden remorse. Ellen had made a white shroud for Golden Cloud. It was both quaint and mournful to see the dead canary as it lay in its little coffin, surrounded by the mourners in their black cloaks. They stood quite still, with their cunning little heads all inclined one way, as if they were waiting for orders from their dead leader. Joshua, with a glance of sorrow at the coffin, said, "Your money box, Dan!" "I wish I could have buried it in a flowerpot, Jo," replied Dan, suppressing a sob. "I didn't have one, so I used my money box." "But you would rather have a flowerpot, Dan?" "I should have liked a flowerpot above all things. It seems more natural for a bird. Something might grow out of it; something that Golden Cloud would like, even if it was only a blade of grass.' Joshua ran out of Dan's room, and returned in a very few minutes with a flowerpot, with a mignonette growing in it. He was almost breathless with excitement. "It is mine, Dan," he said, "and it is yours. I bought it with my own money; and it shall be Golden Cloud's coffin." Joshua then carefully lifted the flower roots from the pot, and placed Golden Cloud in the soft mold beneath. A few tears fell from Dan's eyes into the flowerpot as he looked for the last time upon the form of his pet canary. And Joshua replaced the flower roots, and Golden Cloud was ready for burial. "Play something, Jo," said Dan. Joshua took his accordion in his hands and played a slow, solemn march. The birds, directed by Dan, hopped gravely around the flowerpot, the tomtit keeping its eye sternly fixed upon the rebellious blackbird. "I don't know where to bury it," said Dan, when this ceremony was completed. "Our yard is covered with flagstones, and if it was buried there, the flowers could not grow." "There is a little bit of garden in our yard, Dan," said Joshua. He knew Dan was wishing to have Golden Cloud buried near him. "I can bury it there if you do not mind. It is only five yards away, and the mignonette will grow there." Dan consented, and Joshua took the flowerpot, and in the center of what he called his garden they buried Golden Cloud. When Joshua returned to Dan's room the mourning cloaks were taken off the birds, and they were sent to bed. -B. L. FARJEON. From "Joshua Marvel." SONG OF THE SEA THE sea! the sea! the open sea! It runs the earth's wide regions round; |