The secretary, a scarlet-headed woodpecker, carefully carved it on the trunk of an old tree, and I think you can still find the minutes of that day written in lines of beauty all over the tree. “Theology is the next word,” announced the wind, and again turned over the leaves of their precious dictionary. “The science of God,” he read. “Science, what is science?” If we only had the “s’s!” “I know what it is,” chirped a bird. “I hopped into the schoolhouse this morning, and a book was open on the desk, and no one was there, so I hopped up and took a look to see if there was anything in it to help us. The first words my eye fell on were these,—‘science is knowledge.’ And I didn’t wait for any more, but flew away to sit in a tree and say it over so that I wouldn’t forget it. Going back a little later to see if I could get any more words, I found the schoolhouse full of dreadful boys. As I flew away again, this little piece of paper blew out of the window, and I brought it, thinking it might be helpful.” As he finished speaking, he deposited a small fragment of a definition spelling-book at the foot of the elm tree, and flew up into the branches again, for he was a bashful bird, and this was a very long speech for him to make before so many. “Good, good, good,” cried all the committee. “To go back to theology,” said the wind. “It is the science of God. Science is knowledge, therefore theology is knowledge of God. That is a very great thing. Who is able to lecture on the knowledge of God?” Silence all. No one dared to volunteer. None felt worthy to do so great a thing. Out spoke a shy little wren. “Last night I slept in a notch close over a church window, and the window was open and there was a meeting of the people there and the minister read out of the Bible these words: ‘The heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament sheweth his handiwork.’” [Illustration: FOR HE WAS A BASHFUL BIRD.] She paused a moment to gather courage, and then said, “Why couldn’t the heavens teach theology?” [Illustration: “THE HEAVENS SHALL TEACH THEOLOGY.”] “Bless your heart, little wren, that is the very thing,” cried the blustering north wind. And all the flowers cried,—“The heavens shall teach theology!” The sky bowed its assent and said, “I will do my best to perform the wonderful work entrusted to me.” And the happy brook murmured, “Glory, glory, glory! the glory of God.” * * * * * “Now we will see what this bit of paper has for us,” said the wind as he picked up the paper at the foot of the elm. “Ah! What have we here? Evolution! Just what we want: ‘evolution, the act of unfolding or unrolling.’” He stopped with a thoughtful look. [Illustration]