One day, as she was resting by a river, she saw a tiny fish on the bank,
nearly dead for want of water.

"Poor thing! go and be happy again," she said, softly taking him up, and
dropping him into the nice cool river.

"Thank you, dear child; I'll not forget, but will help you some day," said
the fish, when he had taken a good drink, and felt better.

"Why, how can a tiny fish help such a great girl as I am?" laughed Rosy.

"Wait and see," answered the fish, as he swam away with a flap of his
little tail.

Rosy went on her way, and forgot all about it. But she never forgot to be
kind; and soon after, as she was looking in the grass for strawberries,
she found a field-mouse with a broken leg.

"Help me to my nest, or my babies will starve," cried the poor thing.

"Yes, I will; and bring these berries so that you can keep still till your
leg is better, and have something to eat."

Rosy took the mouse carefully in her little hand, and tied up the broken
leg with a leaf of spearmint and a blade of grass. Then she carried her to
the nest under the roots of an old tree, where four baby mice were
squeaking sadly for their mother. She made a bed of thistledown for the
sick mouse, and put close within reach all the berries and seeds she could
find, and brought an acorn-cup of water from the spring, so they could be