breath, which infects the atmosphere, and partly by excessive terror.

However this may be, the poor little bird in my story sat perfectly still, his half-closed eyes returning the gaze of the snake, which slowly approached him, and, raising his head, suddenly swallowed the beautiful little creature, who but a few moments before had filled the air with his music.

Poor robin looked on with horror, which increased when the serpent, turning to the bush on which he sat, fastened his dreadful glance on him. In vain he tried to fly away-to hide his head among the leaves; he felt the strange witchery of those terribly beautiful eyes—a strange giddiness came over him- he trembled violently—the monster came nearer and nearer; he felt his hot breath; and in a moment more, he would have shared the fate of the other bird, when the sound of footsteps broke the stillness, and two men rushed into the bushes, and one of them plunged a long sharp knife into the throat of the serpent, and the other struck him to the ground with a large club, and they then cut off his head.'

'O, mother! I am so glad,' said little Charles, who had risen from his seat, and stood before his mother with a quivering lip and his eyes full of tears, I was so afraid the awful snake killed the poor robin.'

apple-tree to tell all this, if he had been swallowed by a snake a year before in South America ?'

Oh, I forgot that! Now, mother, please to tell the rest.'

As soon as the serpent was killed, the birds became quiet, and seemed as happy as ever; but our Vermont bird could not so soon forget his danger. He had never seen so frightful a creature before; and instantly determined to leave his nest in the beautiful orange tree, and seek some place as unlike this as possible, hoping he might thus avoid a similar danger.

He spent a whole day in flying from place to place, before he could decide where to fix his residence. At last he found a wide-spread plain, with only here and there a palm-tree. Here was no murmuring little brook, dancing along in the sunshine, and reflecting the brightcolored flowers in its clear waters; and no luxuriant grape-vine, creeping along the ground, twining around the bushes, and climbing the trees to hang its rich clusters of ripe grapes from their branches. But the grass was very green and fresh on this plain; and the cool breeze, which swept over it and waved the tall, graceful palm-trees, made it much more cool and comfortable than the sheltered valley he had left.

So he merrily took possession of the topmost boughs of a fruitful palm, and this situation was quite as pleasant as his first; for here were many brilliant and beautiful birds, with whose melodious

every day.

He lived here in peace and happiness a long time, and was beginning to feel secure from all danger, till, one very sultry afternoon, when all the birds had sought shelter from the scorching rays of the sun, the light breeze, which had scarcely ruffled his feathers, died suddenly away, and every leaf became as motionless as though all nature were asleep..

The birds however seemed aware of some danger, for they began flying about in every direction; and in a few moments the sky was darkened with clouds which came rolling up from every side; the lightning flashed; and the thunder, at first muttering in the distance, grew frightfully loud; soon a huge cloud of dust was seen on the south side of the plain; it came whirling along, and, as it approached, the wind began to blow with great violence. Trees were torn up by the roots, and the air was filled with splintered boughs, leaves, dirt, and stones. The poor little birds, who could no longer find a shelter, were tossed and twirled about, and some were dashed against the trees with such violence as to kill them.

Our little wanderer was taken into the air by the whirlwind, as it swept by his beautiful palm-tree, tearing off its leaves and fruit, and leaving it as bare as winter.

After he had been whirled about for several minutes, without the power of resistance, he was thrown to the ground with such violence as to deprive him of his senses; and when he recovered, the

gain; but the plain, as far as he could see, was strowed with fragments of every kind; fruit, leaves, branches, and whole trees; and the broken roofs of many houses, over which the whirlwind had passed in its fury; and not a few of the pretty birds were lying dead among the general ruin.

As soon as the robin had satisfied himself that, to his great astonishment and delight, his limbs were unbroken, and a few bruises were all the effects of his tossing and tumbling, he hastened away from this scene of desolation, although the other birds, after a vast deal of chirping and fluttering, resumed stations on the trees which were left standing.

The robin was somewhat afraid he should find no place where he might live in security. He however resolved to make one more trial for a restingplace in this beautiful country, and at last selected for his next residence an olive grove on the side of a hill, where all seemed peace and security.

Here he lived several months, and no snakes nor whirlwinds found their way to disturb him, and he began to think he should pass his life among the bright birds of this quiet grove, and never return to his old apple-tree in Vermont.

One morning, as he was sitting on his favorite olive-tree, thinking of his NewEngland home and wondering what had become of his old companion, who had left it at the same time with himself, his attention was attracted by a low rumbling

noise, and the air grew as still as it was before the hurricane; and again the birds began to flutter about, and utter strange noises. He began to tremble with fear. 'What can be coming now?' he thought. 'This rumbling sound is not the voice of a serpent; and the sky is perfectly clear and serene, without a single cloud.'

He strained his eyes to gaze in every direction, but could see nothing alarming. All was bright and calm; but the mysterious sound increased, and soon he found a strange dizziness coming over him, and the hill seemed to rock like a ship at sea. Then the ground rose and fell, like waves; and, as this motion increased, the earth opened in many places like great pits, and swallowed up houses and trees, and then closed over them.

The olive-tree, on which the affrighted robin stood, was thrown down with him, and he lay on the heaving ground, almost dead with fear, and expecting every moment the earth would open and swallow him, as it had the trees and houses; but gradually the rocking motion subsided; the rumbling ceased, and all was calm again.'

Why, mother, what was the matter?' said little Charley, his large blue eyes opening wide with astonishment.

'It was an earthquake, my dear; they are very frequent in South-America, and sometimes overthrow, or swallow up, whole towns, and destroy many lives.

After the earthquake was over, the robin ventured to fly out of his fallen tree, and look around; and to his horror and

astonishment he saw, that almost all the olive grove had disappeared; the ground was gaping open in many places; and just before him was a large pond, formed by some subterranean river, which had found its way out from under the hill into the sunlight.

I will stay no longer in this strange country,' thought the wondering bird; ‘I will return to my quiet old tree, and never leave it again. I had much rather run the risk of being frozen at home, than live here amid so many dangers. I was very wrong to be so discontented with my lot.'

Then spreading his wings, determined to trust himself not another day in a country where valley, plain, and grove seemed alike filled with perils and death, he flew directly home to the north, where he arrived in a few days, heartily rejoiced to see once more the farm-house and orchard looking so quiet, and above all to find his dear old companion returned from his wanderings.

The two robins were now convinced, that home is the best and most agreeable place in the whole world; and resolved to live, for the remainder of their lives, in the country where their Creator had seen fit to place them.

Now how do you like the story of the Discontented Robins ?'

Very much indeed, mother,' said all the children at once; it is a real good story; and we are much obliged to you for telling it.'

'And I am sure,' said Frederic, 'I shall never wish to find a better home than