Year: 1859

wild quick futtering of wings, and Carol was
out of the cage door, out into the room,
out through the open window before Weston
could speak.


of great many boys and girls who will read
this story and as the memory of his disobe-
dience to his mother, and the thought of her
sorrow at the loss of her bird, came over him,
he sank down upon the floor, and the sobs
swelled into his throat, and the tears through
his fingers


"Oh, dear! how I wish I had left Carol
alone?' thought the boy. "Mamma will be
home in little while and what aoiU she say
when she finds Carols gone! l shall be afraid
| to meet her I'm sure shall and then to have
to tell her disobeyed her, and opened the
cage door. 1 didn't mean to only just little
bit, 1 could smooth down his feathers. I
wish [ could run away and hide myself" And
fresh burst of sobs concluded the sentence.


But it was too late to execute his wish, for
ae that moment Weston heard his mothers
steps on the stairs. "Why what is the matter
with ny little boy?" she asked very eagerly,
as he lifted up his tear-stained face, on her en-
| trance. Weston pointed to the wndow-s'Car-
ol's gone," he sobbed.


Mrs. Platt sprang toward the cage with a
low cry, and saw in a moment that its occupant
was flown. Her face was very pale, and her
voice very stern, as she turned it toward Wes-
ton. "Have you disobeyed me, and opened
the cage 2" Mrs. Platt had never spoken to
her son in that tone before.


1t frightened him, and again the tempter
took advantage of his little coward heart, and
placed a lie on the boys lips.


''No, mamma, he flew out without my know
ing anything about it,
[ hung it up My dear bird-William's pre-
cious gift. Perhaps John can find him" and
Mrs. Platt hurried out of the room, and down
to the gardeners leaving her boy alone, with
such weight-oh, little children! do you
know what it is to have lie crushing on and
burning into the heart


Weston Platt knew what it was, for he ear
ried it through that long dark day, and at
night, when Jane carried him to bed, he could
not kneel down and say his evening prayer to
the Great Father, because of the lie that stood
like black cloud between them.


1t was long time before he fell asleep, but
he did at last, and dreamed strange dream
one that he never forgot.


He thought he was dead, and that the shin
ing-faced angels had carried his spirit to the
pearlgate of heaven. Very softly on the boys
ear broke the murmur of the everlasting foun-
tains, and he heard the hallelujahs of the re-
deemed lifting themselves over the purple
hills.





borne Weston in, but one, more glorious than
the rest, stood there, and the robe that roll
ed about him seemed like the mist clouds roll
ed over the mountains III summer. He looked
on Weston with his grave sweet face, and then
opened book, and there its shining page
the boy saw the lie written, that he had told
that day.


How it stained the bright beauty of the
book, with its golden clasps and purple covers,
and with a shudder struck through the boys
frame as the angel said, with a voice clear and
solemn the blast of trumpet, ale that
speaheth a lie cannot enter the kingdom Of
hedren."


Poor Weston he longed to seize the book
and tear out that dreaeful page that stood
against him-but he could not.


He burst into tears of remorse, and cried
out to the angels who stood with folded wings,
looking very sorrowful about him, "What can
1 do ?"


And they answered all together, with voices
like a sudden outbreak of organ music. ''Thy
tears of repentance shall wash out the strain
in thy life book, oh, child of earthl Go back
and acknowledge thy sin, and when we come
again for thee, it shall not be written Merein."


So Weston awoke, and the May moon was
looking serenely through the winding of its
silver fingers through his bed curtains.


A moment later he heard his mether's feet
the staircase, for it was late, and she
going to her room for the night.


He rose up and followed her softly. He saw
her put down the lamp, and them, he rushed
in. "Mamma!' he cried, "I have told lie to
day. 1t was 1 that opened the cage, and let
Carol out but oh l have been very sorry
for it,


And then, before his mother could speak, he
told her how it was that he allowed the bird to
escape, and how great burning weight had
lain on his heart since he told the lie, and how
he could not pray to the Good father at night,
and of the dream that had come to him while
he had slept that evening.


Mrs. Platt drew Weston into her lap without
speaking word, and her tears dropped fast in
to his curls, as his little head lay on her bosom.
At last she knelt with him, and thanked God
that her little boy had repented of the great
evil he had done.


The lost bird was never found, but another
Carol now sings in the gilded cage that hangs
by the window, where the willow -boughs sweep
all day. - - :


But Weston Platt never looks at that cage
without thinking of THE LOST CANARY and