pleasure upon her countenance, and says,

"Suppose we give that bird some crumbs because he has been singing us such
a pretty song."

"Well!" says the child.

"Would you?" asks the mother.

"Yes, mother, I should like to give him some very much. Do you suppose he
sang the song for us?"

"I don't _know_ that he did," replies the mother. "We don't know exactly
what the birds mean by all their singing. They take some pleasure in seeing
us, I think, or else they would not come so much around our house; and I
don't know but that this bird's song may come from some kind of joy or
gladness he felt in seeing us come to the door. At any rate, it will be a
pleasure to us to give him some crumbs to pay him for his song."

The child will think so too, and will run off joyfully to bring a piece of
bread to form crumbs to be scattered upon the path.

And the whole transaction will have the effect of awakening and cherishing
the sentiment of gratitude in her heart. The effect will not be great, it
is true, but it will be of the right kind. It will be a drop of water upon
the unfolding cotyledons of a seed just peeping up out of the ground, which
will percolate below after you have gone away, and give the little roots
a new impulse of growth. For when you have left the child seated upon the
door-step, occupied in throwing out the crumbs to the bird, her heart will
be occupied with the thoughts you have put into it, and the sentiment of