At noon, their grandmother thought there would scarcely be time for them to go down to the woods, and back, between dinner and school time; so the funeral was again postponed.

But after school was out in the afternoon, the children hastened home, and bearing the little box, still covered with the black cambric, they walked slowly down through the meadows, stopping just at the edge of the woods, a few rods from the tree that contained the nest, from which Frank had taken the little bird only two days before.

When they heard the notes of the brother and sister birds, Fanny thought, that had it not been for her, the little one that they carried would have been chirping as merrily as they, and this made her cry again.

She sat down on a little mount of grass, and watched Frank as he prepared the grave.  It was a beautiful spot.  The broad, green boughs of a noble oak shaded them from the sun, and a placid little brook wound along through the long grass and brake leaves at their feet.  Tall stems of blue-bells blossomed around, and modest little daisies sprang from the turf every where.  After Frank finished burying the bird, he heaped up the green moss, all about it, and then sat down beside his sister.  Putting his arm around her neck, he drew her close to him, while he clasped both of her hands in his.

[Illustration:  Frank and Fanny.]

Her eyes still rested upon the little mount of moss beneath which the bird was buried, and the tears were still welling from them.

“Don’t cry any more, dear Fanny,” he said; “don’t cry any more, I am sure we have both repented doing so wrong, and we never shall forget how unhappy it has made us.  Grandmother has often said that every thing is for the best; and perhaps, this will make us more careful to try to do right—­so don’t cry any more.”

“I do try not to cry, Franky, and then I think how sweetly the little bird would have been singing to-day, if it had not been for me, and how badly the papa and mamma birds must have felt, when you took it away, and I can’t help crying.  And perhaps, the little bird will go to heaven, Frank, and it might see our mamma, and tell her how naughty we had been to take it from its nest, and then she would think we were such bad children—­oh, dear;” and Fanny breathed another long sigh.

For some time the children sat very quietly, occupied with their own thoughts, but at length Frank proposed that they should gather twigs, and make a fence around the grave.  Alter this was completed, it looked very neat, and Frank thought that if the birds could see it, they would think it was a very nice little grave.

[Illustration]

CHAPTER IV.

Country amusements and occupations.

Frank and Fanny were permitted to keep pigeons.  They had a pigeon house at the back of the barn, with windows opening into the yard, which could be entered by going up into the hay loft, and opening a little door.  Fanny often went up there to look at the eggs, and play with the young pigeons.  Indeed, the old ones were quite tame, and not at all afraid of her.