Frank and Fanny | Page 6

moments afterwards, she found her sobbing
bitterly.
[Illustration: THE ROBIN.]
Frank was in the room below, studying over his Sabbath school lesson,
but when he heard his sister crying, he dropped his book, and hastened
up to her. Sally had told him, that the bird was dead; and he, too, felt
very badly about it, but he could not bear to hear his sister grieve so.
"Don't cry so, dear sister," he said, "I will earn some money, and buy
you a Canary, like Mary Day's."
"No, no, Frank; I don't want any more birds; and, O, how I do wish I
had never wanted this one," and then she cried again, as though her
little heart was breaking.
It was some time before she was at all pacified, and even then, the long
sighs seemed almost to choke her.
As Sally said, she was, indeed, 'very much afflicted.'
After breakfast, her grandmother, to divert her mind, took her in her lap,
and read to her Bible stories, until the first bell rang for church. Then
Fanny was dressed in a neat lawn, and her long curls were fastened
back, under her simple straw bonnet; and taking hold of Frank's hand,
they walked to church with their grand-parents.

Several times during the sermon, Fanny's lips quivered, and tears
started to her eyes, but she looked at the minister, and tried very hard,
to forget the little dead chick-a-dee.
After church, they staid to Sunday school. When they went home,
Fanny asked if they might not stay at home that afternoon, so as to go
down in the woods, and bury the bird. Her grandmother told her that
that would not be right; and Fanny said very earnestly,
"Why not, grandmother? Wouldn't that be an errand of mercy?" This
made her grandmother smile; but she told her that the poor bird's
sufferings were now over, and that it was to shorten them, that she had
given her consent to Frank's carrying it into the woods, on the Sabbath.
After dinner, they all went to church again, but Fanny was very warm
and tired; so her grandmother took off her bonnet, and laid her head in
her lap, and she soon fell asleep. Just as the minister sat down, after
finishing his sermon, Fanny turned restlessly, and said, "poor, dear little
birdie." The church was so still, that though she spoke low, she was
heard all around. It made the children smile, but Frank blushed, and felt
almost as badly as his grandmother did. She woke Fanny up, and soon
after service was over, and they walked slowly home again. Then Frank
and herself sang little hymns, and read their Sabbath school books until
sundown, when their grandmother gave them permission to walk in the
garden. They talked a great deal about the bird. Frank said he would
make a coffin for it, and Fanny picked mullen leaves to wrap around it.
The next morning they woke up very early, and Frank nailed some
pieces of shingles together, and Fanny folded the leaves about the bird,
and laid it in. Then she picked rose buds, and put them around, and
every thing was prepared for the little bird's funeral.
But their grandmother said there was too much dew on the grass for
them to go down through the meadows that morning; so they borrowed
a piece of black cambric from Sally, and spread it over the little box,
which they called the coffin; and Frank darkened the windows, as he
remembered they had done when his mother died. Then they left the
bird alone, and went down stairs to breakfast, after which they studied

their lessons until school time.
At school, they looked very solemn all the forenoon. Their teacher
noticed it, and asked Fanny what was the matter.
"We are going to a bird's funeral, Miss Norton," said Fanny, "and we
feel very afflicted." The teacher had to bite her lips to keep from
smiling. Frank noticed it, and said,
"It was Sally, Miss Norton, that put that into Fanny's head; but we have
reason to feel badly, for if it had not been for us, the little bird would
have been alive now."
When they had told Miss Norton about it, she said that she did not
wonder that they should feel bad, and the children saw that they had her
sympathy also.
At noon, their grandmother thought there would scarcely be time for
them to go down to the woods, and back, between dinner and school
time; so the funeral was again postponed.
But after school was out in the afternoon, the children hastened home,
and bearing the little box, still covered with the black cambric, they
walked slowly down through the meadows, stopping just at the edge of
the woods,