fly!"
"Do not hurt it," cried Fanny. "Pray, Charley, ask them not to hurt it!"
The nestling had been obliged to hop from beneath his little morsel of hay, and had now crept underneath a haycock.
"We did not mean to hurt it, Miss," said one of the boys; "we only wanted to catch it, and we could not. But I am afraid one of us trod upon it somehow by accident, when it was under the bit of hay there; and, perhaps, it has been hurt somewhere. I'm very sorry if it is hurt." As he said this, the boys all went away; and the one who had spoken really did look sorry.
"I wonder where the little fellow is hiding," said Charles. "If he has been hurt, we had better look for him, to see if we can help him to find his nest."
"Yes, let us look for him," said Fanny; and they both went to work directly to remove the hay and search underneath the haycock,--Sarah, their maid, helping them.
They were not long in finding the nestling. He was crouching close to the ground, with one bright little round black eye looking up at them, and was panting as if his little heart would break.
"We will not hurt you, poor little thing!" cried Fanny, as her brother stooped down and took him up softly in both hands. The nestling's breast panted quicker than ever, and every now and then he gave a flutter, when Charles tried to look at him to see where he was hurt. At last, when he found how gently he was held, and that all they did to him was to smooth down the feathers of his back and wings, he began to be quiet, and to pant less, and gradually to cease making any fluttering.
"Now then," said Charles, "he is quiet, and we may examine him." So he slowly began to open his hands, and Fanny began to blow the little bird's feathers with her mouth close down to him, to blow them on one side that they might see where he was hurt. But no bruise or scratch could be found. Presently, however, Charles said, "O, I see what has happened. The boys in running after him have trod upon his feet, and bruised them dreadfully. They are all red, and swelled, and crooked, and I do not believe they can ever get properly well again. His little claws have been twisted and broken. He will never be able to hop about any more; and I am sure he can never perch upon a twig. He will have nothing to hold fast with. What is to become of him?"
Fanny began to cry as she heard all this, and looked at the nestling's bruised feet, and saw how badly they were injured. "He will die," said she, "if we let him go: he will never be able to get up to his nest, nor hop about to find his food; and he will be starved. Do, Charley, let us take him home with us. If he gets well enough to hop and fly, we will give him his liberty; and if not, let us take care of him."
Accordingly, home they all went, carrying the bird, gently wrapped up in a white handkerchief, and held loosely in Fanny's double hands, so as not to press him. When they arrived they suddenly recollected that they had no cage for him, and did not know where to put him. Not knowing what to do, as their papa and mamma happened both to be out, Charles went into the yard to ask advice. To his great joy, Timothy, the coachman, told him there was an old wire lantern hanging up in the stable, which he might have. The old lantern was brought, and some hay and grass were laid at the bottom, and then Timothy said he knew of a chaffinch's nest which had been built last year in a pear-tree that grew up one side of the stable wall, and they might get it down, and put this little lame fellow into it.
"But then," said Fanny, "what will the chaffinches do without a nest!"
"O, you don't understand," said Charles. "It is an empty nest, made last year. It has no owners now."
[Illustration]
"Do get it, then, Timothy, please," cried Fanny.
Away went Timothy for the old chaffinch's nest, and Charles with him, while Fanny remained with the nestling, standing beside the wire lantern. They soon came back with the nest, which Fanny placed at the bottom of the lantern.
By this time Mrs. Dowse, the cook, came into the yard smiling, and bringing with her a saucer containing bread and milk and a quill, in order that the nestling should have some supper. "O, thank you, Mrs. Dowse," cried Fanny. "I had
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