ing, we saw the hen also very busy carrying honey, and then by gently moving a sheltering leaf we peeped in to see two little birds, each no bigger than a bee. Can you fancy a bee with a beak? for that was exactly what they were like. We asked the opinion of several people as to whether it would be cruel to take the nest as soon as the young ones grew a little bigger, and at last we very carefully cut the twig it rested on, and transferred the branch to a cage, which we hung outside our window, under an awning. The parent birds saw it directly, and flew in and out of the open door, feeding their young ones just as regularly, till their feathers came and they looked quite full grown. The papa and mamma now deserted them, and Jessie and I shut the cage door and tried to induce them to feed themselves with honey out of the same flowers from which we had seen their parents bring them their incessant meals; but no, they were either too lazy, or too stupid. We then endeavoured to feed them. ourselves with honey, or with sugar and water, but we

saw in a very few days that it would only end in their death. They drooped and lost the burnished look of their plumage, so we very reluctantly opened the cage door, and after a few preliminary flutters our lovely little captives darted away into the free air. We watched them hovering over a bough of honeybearing blossoms, and feeding themselves quite cleverly, and then they were off like a glancing sunbeam, and we never saw them again!

AUNT ANNIE'S STORIES ABOUT HORSES.

No doubt some of my young readers have ponies of their own; but I am sure that even those who have not, like to hear stories about horses. Nearly all boys and girls in town or country have noticed in how many ways these strong and beautiful animals do good service to man; most of us, even grown up people, take pleasure in watching a carriage go by with its well-groomed pair trotting proudly together, and have often admired the enormous creatures which drag with equal pride heavy carts and waggons. But you need not fear from this beginning that I am going to write you an essay upon the uses and habits of the horse, for you will learn

all this in good time from natural-history books, or, what is much better, from your own observation; besides, ladies are not supposed to know much about horses, and I might make sad mistakes if I were to write of them in this fashion. But though my horsetalk may not be quite as accurate as a groom's, still in my time I have seen so many horses of all sorts and sizes that I may perhaps be able to amuse you by some stories of those I have ridden or known; and I will begin with an account of our first steed 'Grenadier.'

He was a shaggy little Shetland, no higher than the table, and more like a broad-backed Newfoundland dog than a pony. It was most absurd to see this tiny creature in its stall on a line with those of the big horses, and to read its name printed in

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large black letters on a white China tablet hung over its little toy manger; the name was so big, and

Granny' (for we children soon shortened his name to that) was so small. He was an old pony when he

was given to us, and so we could not expect to alter

or improve any of his ways or manners. His chief peculiarity was his love of children: we must have teased him a great deal, yet he was always perfectly gentle and patient to us, allowing us to pull his tail, lift up his legs one after the other, creep under him, though we very soon grew too big for this; in fact, he would let us children do anything we liked with him. But the moment a grown-up person approached, Granny's whole nature seemed to change; his eyes gleamed with rage under his shaggy forelock, he snorted with indignation, and the groom used to declare he was always in terror of his life whilst he was feeding or cleaning the pony. I remember well how delighted my sister and I were at some one saying, after listening to the stable-helper's eloquent account of what he endured at Granny's legs, Why, my man, don't you lift him up and put him in the manger, out of your way, whilst you clean his stall?' It seemed quite possible.

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One of my earliest recollections takes me back to