Produced by Markus Brenner, Irma BIRD STORIES AND DOG STORIES. [Illustration] CINCINNATI: WILLIAM T. TRUMAN. [Illustration] THE BIRD SOLDIER. Little bird! you had better let that cannon alone; I am afraid you will soon fall by its side. But what are you firing at? You don’t mean to let us see; never mind—only be sure that you don’t kill yourself, nor any body else. Can it be that you are doing all that for play? If so, you must be very fond of fire-works. But you hardly look cross enough to kill any body. If you do such a thing, you know what must be done; you will either be hung, or put in prison for life: but they don’t hang much, now-a-days; so, perhaps, they will only shut you up. Little bird, little bird, what are you doing?— “Firing my cannon, to kill Robin Redbreast;” Naughty bird, naughty bird, why will you do it? “Because he has stolen the eggs from my nest.” [Illustration] IS IT A FUNERAL? What is that? A bird’s funeral? So it seems, for the bird in the wheelbarrow certainly appears to be dead, and another one is wheeling him to the grave; or perhaps he found him dead, and is going now to carry him home. But what is that bird, with a cap on, doing? Did he shoot the poor bird? He has a gun; but I should hardly think he would follow his neighbor to the grave, if he was his murderer. Tell me, children, if you can, how it was, and who did it, for it looks like a sad affair. Do _people_ ever get into such kinds of trouble? They often die, and too often kill each other. Learn a lesson from this, never to get angry, lest you some day kill your fellow-creature. [Illustration] THE CANARY. Little Amelia was told, one beautiful spring morning, that she might take her bird into the yard. She had not been out of doors for a long time, so that she was very much delighted with the prospect of playing freely in the open air. She had no brother, or sisters, but she loved this bird almost as well as herself, and never seemed to be lonely with his company. She carried her little round table out upon the green, and placed the cage upon it, so that little Jess might breathe the fresh air, and see the sunshine and flowers once more. See her stretching out her hand to feed it; then she will bound away to the other end of the yard; the more she frolics, the louder will Jess sing. So they will both enjoy themselves in the bright sunshine, till school begins. [Illustration] FREDDY TAKING A RIDE. But, what kind of a horse is that? Oh! it is a dog! Just hear Fred talk to him.—Go along, Bright, he says.