But she kept her health, and did not die.  She still makes pets of the birds, and they come and play with her.  She handles them so gently, that even a humming-bird has been known to come to her several times.

Last winter a whole flock of birds kept near the house all the season.  She would feed them, and then play with them for hours at a time.  Every morning the birds would fly to her window, and chirp, as much as to say, “Good-morning, little mistress!  Wake up, wake up!”

I think the child must be a near relation of that “Little Bell,” of whom the poet Westwood sang,—­

    “Whom God’s creatures love,” the angels fair
    Murmured, “God doth bless with angels’ care: 
        Child, thy bed shall be
    Folded safe from harm; love deep and kind
    Shall watch around, and leave good gifts behind,
        Little Bell, for thee!”

EMILY CARTER.

DADDY FROG.

[Illustration:  Daddy Frog & Children]

    Old Daddy Frog lives in a bog,
      And his coat is bottle-green;
    Yellow his vest; handsomely dressed,
      His pretty shape is seen. 
    Puffing with pride, there at his side
      His dame is sure to be: 
    Smiling, she says, “No one could raise
        A finer family! 
      Singing Coa, coa, coa, kerchunk!”

    Old Daddy Frog leaps on a log
      In a spry and jaunty way: 
    Calling his boys—­oh, what a noise! 
      He joins them in their play. 
    Hippety hop! under they pop,
      And Daddy Frog says he,
    “Isn’t it fine?  How they will shine,
      This polished family! 
    Singing Coa, coa, coa, kerchunk!”

    Old Daddy Frog lives in the bog
      Till the summer days are done: 
    Little boys grow; dressed like a beau
      Now is each model son. 
    Daddy Frog’s eyes wink with surprise,
      Filled with delight is he;
    Dame at his side chuckles with pride,
      “There’s no such family! 
    Singing Coa, coa, coa, kerchunk!”

GEORGE COOPER.

[Illustration:  Daddy Frog]

THE FIRST CATCH.

    One. 
    Two. 
    Three. 
    Four. 
    Five.

[Illustration:  Fish in Hat]

I caught a fish alive.

Why did You let him go?

[Illustration:  Boy Bit]

He bit my little finger so.

TALKING WITH THE FINGERS.

No doubt, many of the little readers of “The Nursery” go to school; yet not many of them, I think, can ever have been in such a school as the one in which I am teaching.  The walls of the room are hung with pictures of birds, animals, insects, fishes, and flowers.  The blackboard is covered with drawings of many familiar objects.