him for a brother, as was the usage among the Indian tribes. “ When you are old,” said he, “and your feet can no longer follow the flying game,

when you can no longer bend your bow, - come to me, and I will build you a wigwam, where you shall live after the manner of your people, and I will provide for all your wants. If grief causes your tears to flow, I will wipe them away, as you have mine. And your faithful hound shall share my care; and when he is old, and can no longer follow

you, he shall claim food and shelter at my hands.” He then, turning to his family and friends, and holding the Indian by the hand, said, “ Neighbors and friends, behold my brother. The name by which my child has hitherto been called shall be forgotten. He shall hereafter be known by that of his uncle and deliverer, Tewessina.”

All the spectators testified their satisfaction. While they were expressing their feelings, the Indian was silent and motionless, smoking his pipe, like a chief in the council of his tribe. He then confirmed, after the manner of the red men, the new ties of kindred which had been offered to him. “My brother,” said he, “I have done nothing for you which you would not have done for me. It was the will of the Great Spirit who watches over us that I should come to your house, at the right moment, to help you. Are you happy,

so am I: your joy is my joy. When you come to our people, you shall lodge in no other wigwam than mine. My fire shall warm you, and my bearskin shall be your couch, and you shall sleep by your brother's side.”

From this time, the little Ernest bore his deliverer's name. When the latter died, his namesake went to his lodge, and took one of his sons, who was also called Tewessina, for a brother. Thus the tie of gratitude was continued through another generation ; and the young Indian often came to visit his white brother, bringing the spoils of the chase as presents, and was liberally rewarded in return with the products of civilization.




How pleasant the life of a bird must be,
Flitting about in each leafy tree;
In the leafy trees, so broad and tall,
Like a green and beautiful palace hall,
With its airy chambers, light and boon, *
That open to sun, and stars, and moon;
That open unto the bright blue sky,
And the frolicsome winds as they wander by!


They have left their nests on the forest bough ;
Those homes of delight they need not now ;
And the young and the old they wander out,
And traverse their green world round about ;
And hark! at the top of this leafy hall,
How one to the other in love they call !
« Come up! come up!” they seem to say,
“ Where the topmost twigs in the breezes sway.


Come up, come up! for the world is fair Where the merry leaves dance in the summer air.” And the birds below give back the cry, “We come, we come to the branches high." How pleasant the lives of the birds must be, Living in love in a leafy tree ! And away through the air what joy to go, And to look on the green, bright earth below!


How pleasant the life of a bird must be,
Skimming about on the breezy sea,

* Boon, pleasant.

Cresting the billows like silvery foam,
Then wheeling away to its cliff-built home!
What joy it must be to'sail, upborne
By a strong, free wing, through the rosy morn!
To meet the young sun face to face,
And pierce like a shaft the boundless space ;-


To pass through the bowers of the silver cload ;
To sing in the thunder halls aloud ;
To spread out the wings for a wild, free flight
With the upper-cloud winds, –0, what delight !
O, what would I give, like a bird, to go
Right on through the arch of the sun-lit bow,
And see how the water drops are kissed
Into green, and yellow, and amethyst !


How pleasant the life of a bird must be,
Wherever it listeth there to flee

; To go, when a joyful fancy calls, Dashing adown ʼmong the waterfalls ; Then to wheel about with their mates at play, * Above, and below, and



spray, Hither and thither, with screams as wild As the laughing mirth of a rosy child !


What joy it must be, like a living breeze,
To flutter about ’mid the flowering trees ;
Lightly to soar, and to see beneath
The wastes of the blossoming purple heath,
And the yellow furze, like fields of gold,
That gladdened some fairy region old !
On mountain tops, on the billowy sea,
On the leafy stems of the forest tree,
How pleasant the life of a bird must be!



THE greenhouse is my summer seat ; My shrubs, displaced from their retreat,

Enjoyed the open air, Two goldfinches, whose sprightly song Had been their mutual solace long,

Lived happy prisoners there.

They sang as blithe-as finches sing
That flutter loose on golden wing,

And frolic where they list;
Strangers to liberty, 'tis true;
But that delight they never knew,

And therefore never missed.

But nature works in


breast ; Instinct is never quite suppressed ;

And Dick felt some desires, Which, after many an effort vain, Instructed him at length to gain

A pass between the wires.

The open window seemed t'invite
The freeman to a farewell flight;

But Tom was still confined ;
And Dick, although his way was clear,
Was much too generous and sincere

To leave his friend behind.

For, settling on his grated roof,
He chirped and kissed him, giving proof

That he desired no more ;
Nor would forsake his cage at last,
Till, gently seized, I shut him fast,

A prisoner as before.

O ye who never knew the joys
Of friendship, satisfied with noise,

Fandango,* ball, and rout,
Blush, when I tell you how a bird
A prison with a friend preferred

To liberty without


[This piece is found in the Child's Friend for 1848. It is there stated to have

originally appeared in a newspaper.]

THERE is a little girl of six years old, residing on the borders of the pond which supplies water for the furnace works at Weare River, in the town of Hingham, in Massachusetts, who has a most wonderful control over a class of animals hitherto thought to be untamable.

For a year or two past, the little girl has been in the habit of playing about the pond, and throwing crumbs into the water for the fishes. By degrees these timid creatures have become so tame as to come at her call, follow her about the pond, and eat from her hand.

A gentleman went down there a few days since, with his daughter, to see the little creatures and their mistress. At first the fishes were mistaken, and came up to the surface of the water as the gentleman's daughter approached; but in a moment they discovered their mistake, and whisked away from the stranger in evident dissatisfaction. Their own mistress then came up and called, and they crowded towards her, clustering about her hands to receive the crumbs. .

She has, besides, a turtle, or tortoise, which has been injured in one of its feet. This creature lives in the pond, and seems

* Fandango, a kind of dance.

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