half hidden in the branches, was a nest that held five tiny eggs.

The sound of bird voices was heard, and there in the tree Dick saw two orioles. They were

The Oriole's Nest.

singing a song to

gether, and somehow Dick could understand it all. They sang of their little home and of the eggs that lay within it. And they sang of the happy time when five little birds would

come to be loved and cared for.

Then the two orioles rose slowly into the air and flew across the field. The nest was left alone.

Down the road came a boy whistling and kicking up the dust with every step.

Dick began to feel very unhappy, for he knew just what would happen next.

The boy in the picture looked up and saw

the brown nest among the leaves.

"There

is an oriole's nest," thought he. thought he. And in a moment he had climbed the tree, and the five tiny eggs were in his hand..

“I'll take them home," he said, as he put the eggs into his pocket. But he handled them so roughly that three were broken.

With an angry word he threw all the eggs on the ground, and then went on whistling and kicking up the dust.

A joyous bird song was heard in the air, and the two orioles darted into the apple tree. The mother bird flew to her nest. Then she gave a cry so sharp and sad that it hurt one's heart to hear it.

The father bird joined the poor mother in her outcries of fright and sorrow. There on the dusty ground lay all that was left of the beautiful eggs.

Far across the field flew the oriole mother, almost wild with sorrow. The father, with his feathers drooping, sat on a fence post, and his happy songs were changed to notes of sadness.

THIRD READER -3

The Apple-Tree Mother looked very grave, but she only said, "Shall we have another picture??

Dick was afraid to say "No." He lay quite still, looking at the apple tree. The rain was beginning to beat against the leaves. Then he saw a weary little dog come limping to the tree, whining, and licking one of his paws.

His legs

He was not a handsome dog. were crooked and one ear was torn. The branches of the tree bent above him. And when the poor dog looked up at their shelter, one could see how big and soft and sad were his eyes.

With a splashing noise two boys came wading across the brook. Each boy had a fishing pole over his shoulder, and in his

hand was a small tin pail in which he had carried bait.

As they came toward the tree one of them pointed to the poor little dog. It was the same boy that had stolen the oriole's eggs.

"Now for some fun!" he said. Then both the boys sat down on the ground, and to work they went with a fishing line and one of the empty pails.

They did not see how the apple tree shook its head at them. They did not hear how

each raindrop called,

"No! no! no!" as it

fell pattering on the leaves.

The poor little dog lay resting under the tree, safe from the storm. All at once he was caught and held by rough hands. He howled with fright and pain, but he could not get away. A strong cord was bound around his thin little body, and his wounded foot was sadly hurt.

At last the boys let him go, and with a wild bound he jumped through the fence and ran along the road.

But oh, what terrible thing is rattling and banging around him? At every leap he is cruelly struck on his crooked little legs.

Dick had turned his head the other way. His cheeks burned and his heart was sad. Then he opened his eyes and saw his mother standing beside him with a second cup of bitter tea in her hand.

"Such a nice sleep as you have had," she said. "I really think you are better. Now sit up and drink this like a man."

Never a word said Dick. He sat up and