They told it over and over again out in the pigeon-house, and Mother and Father Pigeon were glad, too.

In the morning, the birds in the garden were told of the wonderful things that had happened to Fleet Wing and Sweet Voice; and even the hens and chickens had something to say when they heard the news.

The thrush said that it all made her think of her own sweet song; and she sang it again to them:—­

    “Wherever I fly from my own dear nest,
    I always come back, for home is the best.”

THE LITTLE GIRL WITH THE LIGHT

    MOTTO FOR THE MOTHER

We can never dwell in shadows If our souls are full of light.  Let the brightness of our being Make the whole wide world as bright “Jesus bids us shine for all around.  Many kinds of darkness in this world are found.  There’s sin and want and sorrow, so we must shine, You in your small corner, I in mine.”

    S.S.  Hymn.

There once lived a little maiden to whom God had given a wonderful light, which made her whole life bright.

When she was a wee baby it shone on her face in a beautiful smile, and her mother cried:—­

“See! the angels have been kissing her!” And when she grew older it lighted up her eyes like sunshine, and gleamed on her forehead like a star.

All lovely things that loved light, loved her.  The soft-cooing pigeons came at her call.  The roses climbed up to her windows to peep at her, and the birds of the air, and the butterflies, that looked like enchanted sunbeams, would circle about her head.

Her father was king of a country; and though she was not so tall as the tall white lily in the garden, or the weeds that grew outside, she had servants to wait on her, and grant her every wish, as if she were a queen.

She was dearer to her father and mother than all else that they possessed; and there was no happier king or queen or little maiden in any kingdom of the world, till one sad day when the king’s enemies came upon them like a whirlwind, and changed their joy to sorrow.

Their palace was seized, the servants were scattered, and the king and queen were carried away to a dark prison-house, where they sat and wept for their little daughter, for they knew not where she was.

No one knew but the old nurse, who had nursed the king himself.  She had carried the child away, unnoticed amid the noise and strife, and set her in safety outside the palace walls.

“Fly, precious one!” she cried, as she left her there.  “Fly! for the enemy is upon us!” And the little maiden started out in the world alone.

She knew not where to go; so she wandered away through the fields and waste places, where nobody lived and only the grasshoppers seemed glad.  But she was not afraid,—­no! not even when she came to a great forest, at evening;—­for she carried her light with her.