"I will go," William answered, "I think I know where she will hide
herself."

It was not long before William returned, leading Frances, who very
reluctantly yielded to accompany him.

"Come here," said her mamma, stopping the accusations she saw were
ready to overwhelm the offending little girl; "come here, and let me
talk to you about this sad thing you have done to the little birds.
Do you see what you have done by your ill-judged kindness?"

"Kindness! mamma," they all exclaimed.

"Yes, dear children, she has been very faulty, but I believe she
meant to be kind, and through ignorance did this thing which proves
the death of the birds. _You_ would not have done it, William,
because you have already learnt there is such a thing as a necessary
prudence to deal out your morsels with wisdom, and in a measure
suited to the age and the capacity of the birds, and also that their
food should be of a wholesome kind suitable to their nature. Nothing
of this did Frances know, and it seems she had not learnt wisdom from
the circumstances she had herself so lately fallen into.

"It reminds me of the scripture, which teaches us to profit: 'Open
thy mouth wide, and I will fill it.' These little birds first
attracted your attention by their _open mouths_, which they had
stretched to receive what their poor mother was preparing to put into
them. As one lighted on the edge of their nest, they instinctively
opened their little yellow-edged beaks; she delighted to see them do
so; and they, taking with content what she had provided for them,