He decided to put the gulls out of sight. He dragged them to one side of the cottage where the minister tried each year to grow a few plants. Here in the soft earth Oscar dug a grave for the dead birds.

Then he went back to his old place and waited for his master to return.

II.

When Oscar saw his old master come slowly up the street, he longed for the first time in his life to be able to speak. He wanted to tell his faithful old friend all about the dead birds.

As the minister entered his yard, a woman came running to tell him that Oscar had killed the two pigeons which her son had just sent her, and which had escaped from their cage.

The minister did not know that the poor pigeons had almost perished on the journey: that they broke their cage, flew into Oscar's yard, and died. Neither did Oscar know this. But the good minister sent the woman home, feeling sure Oscar did not kill her pigeons.

Then the old minister went out to see the sunset. Great bands of thick gray clouds

wrapped the hilltops in their folds, and lay in long lines across the western waters. The minister looked away from the sunset and his eye fell on a little mound in his flower bed.

"What did I plant there?" he thought, and began poking the fresh soil with his cane. Oscar! Oscar!"

Oscar came running down the path. He knew he had done an act he could not explain. He was very sad. He made up his mind to dig up the birds and take a good beating from his master.

There stood his

Alas! he was too late. beloved master in the twilight, with the two white pigeons at his feet.

"Oh, Oscar, Oscar, what have you been doing ?"

At that moment a lad came running up to the gate.

66

"Are you the minister?" asked the lad. Sandy Johnson wants you quick."

It was no time to think of pigeons. Sandy Johnson was very sick. The old minister was soon on his way across the loch and up a glen to Sandy's home. For two nights he sat by

Sandy's side, praying and caring for him. Sandy grew better and the minister set out for home.

A fierce snowstorm came on. The boat made but little way. Cold and tired, the minister thought of his warm room, and Oscar lying by his easy chair.

He reached the shore at last and hurried to his gate and pushed along to the door. Oscar did not greet him. What could it mean?

"Janet, Janet," he called, as he opened the door, "where is Oscar?"

66

There were tears in Janet's eye as she said, Ah, sir; after you had gone with the lad to Sandy's house, Oscar would not come into the house and he would not touch a morsel of food. He lay quite still in the garden, and last night he died. It is my belief, sir, he died of a broken heart, because you did not beat him for killing the pigeons, and he could not make it up with you."

And the minister thought so too. When Janet was gone he sat down by his lonely fireside and buried his face in his hands and

wept.

LXVII. A BOY WHO LOVED BOOKS.

Some boys think they need not plan for their life work until they are grown up. Some boys, perhaps, do not think of the future at all. But a few boys begin early to fit themselves for great usefulness.

Horace Greely was a thoughtful boy. His boyhood home was on a farm. He was fonder of books than of farm life. He learned to

read so early that at the age of four years he could read almost any book.

He went to the country school near by. Here he was in the spelling class with the largest pupils. He was the best speller in the class. It made the large scholars feel ashamed to be trapped by little Horace. He was so anxious to do well that he cried when he missed a word.

He went to the spelling schools at night. Here Horace was always the first one to be chosen. Sometimes the little fellow would fall asleep in the contest. When his turn came his comrades would waken him. He would spell his word, and then fall asleep again.

When he was five years old it is said that he would take a book and go out into the orchard, lie down on the grass, and read for an entire day, forgetting all about his dinner or his supper.

In those days there were no lamps. People used candles. Horace's parents could not afford to buy as many candles as the boy needed. Horace gathered pine knots and made a fire of