in a large tin mug, and sprinkled them with water, which glistened on their leaves as freshly as the dew-kisses which glisten in the early morning wherever Nature makes holiday. Then Dan took the cage containing the bullfinches, and asked the Old Sailor to accept the birds as a present from him and Joshua; and the Old Sailor thanked him in such cordial terms, that his heart was stirred with a fresh delight. Truth to tell, the Old Sailor was mightily gratified with the birds; but, at the same time, he was mightily puzzled as to what he was to do with them. Prettier little things he had never seen; but, small and beautiful as they were, they were a responsibility for which he was not prepared. He stood with his legs wide apart, regarding the birds with a perplexed expression on his face; and Dan, divining what was in his mind, opened the door of the cage, and out hopped the bullfinches, looking about them with an air of having been accustomed to the water all their lives. As if impelled by a sudden desire to fly away and join their mates in distant woodlands, they took wing, and fluttered around the hammock in which Dan lay; now coming tantalisingly near, and now sailing away with an independent air, as much as

to say, 'We're off!' But when Dan held out his forefinger, they came and perched upon it contentedly. The Old Sailor gazed on the little comedy in admiration. His admiration was increased a hundredfold when Dan, taking his hand, transferred the birds on to his forefinger. looked at the birds timorously; the birds looked at him confidently. He was afraid to move lest some mischief should happen to the delicate creatures.

He

'Put them in the cage, sir,' said Dan. The Old Sailor did so. 'Now,' continued Dan, 'I will send you food for them regularly; and it will not be too much trouble for you to fill this well with fresh water every morning, will it, sir?'

'No,' said the Old Sailor. 'But how will the birds get at the water, my lad? It is out of their reach.'

‘Ah, you think so, sir. But have you ever been in want of water?'

'Of fresh water I have, my lad; not of salt. Was for three days on a raft, with not a drop of fresh water among thirty-seven of us. Two drank salt water, and went raving mad; one threw himself into the sea.'

And the others, sir?' inquired Dan, immensely interested.

The others, my lad, waited and suffered, and prayed for rain. And it came, my lad, and we were saved, by the mercy of God. It was awful suffering; our very eyeballs were blazing with thirst. It would have been a relief to us if we could have cried.'

'But the heavens cried for you, sir,' said Dan tenderly.

Ay, ay, my lad,' said the Old Sailor; that's well said. The heavens cried for us; and we lay on our backs with our mouths open to catch the blessed drops. The salt water that was death to us dashed up from below; and the fresh water that was life to us came down from above. In five minutes we were soaked with the rain; and we sucked at our clothes. We caught enough rain-water to last us until we were picked up by a merchantman, homeward bound from the Indies.'

'That was good,' said Dan, feeling as if he had known the Old Sailor all his life. 'Now, supposing you were wrecked, sir, on a high rock. Here is the rock' (pointing to the perch on which the bullfinches were standing).

Here is the rock,' repeated the Old Sailor, chiming in readily with Dan's fancy.

'And here you are, sir, with another sailor'

(identifying Praiseworthy Meddler and the other sailor with the two bullfinches).

'And here am I, with another sailor,' said the Old Sailor attentively, nodding familiarly at his new shipmate in the cage, who, making much too light of the calamity which had befallen them, winked saucily in return.

And you are very thirsty.'

'And I am very thirsty,' said the Old Sailor, smacking his parched lips.

And here, out of your reach, is the water' (indicating the well) 'you want to drink.'

'And here, out of my reach, is the water I want to drink,' said the Old Sailor, growing more parched.

'Now, then,' said Dan, 'you can't get at the water with your beak-I mean your mouth-and you can't reach it with your claws-I mean your hands. Now what do you do?'

6

Ah! what do I do ?' repeated the Old Sailor, not seeing his way out of the difficulty.

"Why,' exclaimed Dan enthusiastically, 'you get a rope-or, if you haven't got one, you make one out of some strong grass, or out of strips of your clothes; and you get a bucket or you make one out of a cocoa-nut' (in his enthusiasm Dan

took the cocoa-nut for granted; and the Old Sailor accepted its existence on the rock with most implicit faith) and you attach the cocoa-nut to the rope, and you lower it into the water, and draw it up full. Here you are, doing it.'

And, obedient to Dan's signal, the bullfinches lowered their tiny bucket into the well and drew it up full, and dipped their beaks into the water as if they were shipwrecked bullfinches, and were nearly dead with raging thirst.

A thoughtful expression stole into the Old Sailor's face.

They are wise little creatures,' he said. 'I have seen a might of strange things and pretty things; but this is as pretty as anything I have seen.'

You can teach them anything almost, sir,' said Dan, who was bent upon making the Old Sailor love the birds.

'In a week they could.' If I had a little ship, with two or three sails and a rope-ladder, I could teach them to climb the ladder and set the sails.'

'I daresay, my lad, I daresay.'

'Did you ever see a mermaid, sir?'