diameter, the circle becoming smaller at each gyration of the infatuated
bird. She appeared conscious of her danger, yet unable to break the spell
that bound her. Nearer and still nearer she fluttered her little wings
to those open jaws; smaller and smaller grew the circle, till at last,
with a quick convulsive cry; she fell into the mouth of the snake.

As Mr. Lowe watched the bird he became deeply interested in her fate.
He started a number of times to destroy the reptile and thus liberate
the sparrow from her danger, but an unconquerable curiosity to see the
end restrained him. All day long the scene just described was before
him. He could not forget it nor dismiss it from his mind. The last cry
of that poor little bird sinking into the jaws of death was constantly
ringing in his ears, and the sadness of the morning increased.

[Illustration]

Returning to his house, he seated himself in his library and attempted
to read. What could be the matter? Usually he could command his thoughts
at will, but now he could think of nothing but the scene on the mountain,
or the little company in the house of God. Slowly passed the hours, and
many times did he find himself, in spite of his resolution not to do so,
looking down the road for the head of his dapple gray to emerge from the
valley. It seemed a long time before the rumbling of the wheels was at
length heard upon the bridge which crossed the mountain stream, followed
shortly by the old carry-all creeping slowly up the hill.

The return of the family somewhat changed the course of his thoughts.
They did not say any thing to him about the good meeting they had enjoyed,
and who had been converted since the last Lord's day; but they talked
it all over among themselves, and how could he help hearing? He learned