“Why, it must be the reed-bird,” said James, “for I have seen a print of one, and this was just like it; and I have read of it too. It eats the seeds of the reed, and young snails, and flies.” [Illustration: “On the stem of a reed, close by the nest, was the hen-bird.”] “How large is it, James?” said Jesse. “It is quite a small bird; but from its thick coat, and long tail and legs, looks as large as a red-breast. Its bill is very small.” “Oh dear,” said Jesse, “did you feel that? was it not a drop of rain?” “Yes, that it was,” said James, “and a large drop, too: I think it will soon pour. Come, we must run home fast, or that dark cloud will catch us.” So they set off, and just reached their papa’s door in time. A TALE OF THE NORTH. “Shut the door, Hugh, and bring your stool to the fire-side, and I will tell you a tale. What sort of a one must it be?” said Mrs. Stone. “Thank you, dear mamma; a tale of the north, if you please; that cold place, where there is so much snow and ice. I like to hear of that, when I am snug and warm by the fire; and I feel so glad I do not live there.” “And perhaps those whose home is in that cold land, would not change their lot with yours. They love their close, round huts, their rough benches, their furs and sledges, as much as we do our nice house and fire-side, our chairs and rugs.” “Do tell me more of them!” said Hugh. “They are a small race of men, not more than four or five feet high, with dark faces, deep-sunk eyes, and straight black hair. In the warm days they live on the fruits of the chace, in the winter on the dried flesh of the rein-deer, salt-fish, and cheese. You know I once told you what a long, dark winter theirs is, when the sun is not seen for many days.” “Yes, mamma,” said Hugh, “and it must be very dull for them, poor things. But will you tell me about the rein-deer?” “Ah, I do not know what they would do if they had not such a friend as the rein-deer proves to them: from it they get both milk, food, and warm clothes. It feeds on a moss, of which there is a great deal there; and though the snow may lie very thick upon the ground, the rein-deer can tell where his food grows, and with his fore-feet and broad horns he digs through the snow to get a meal.” “Oh, mamma, how can he find it out?” said Hugh. “The quick sense of smell with which the rein-deer is gifted, leads him to the right spot, and he is never known to search in vain. The men yoke them to their sledges, which glide over the smooth, hard snow at a great rate.” “What sort of a thing is a sledge, mamma?” said Hugh. “It is made of birch-wood, something in the shape of a boat, about six feet long, with a high back; and here, wrapt up in his thick furs, the man sits as snug as can be. They drive with a cord tied to the horns of the rein-deer, which flies over the ground at great speed, with his light load. If you will bring me that large book from the shelf I can show you the print of one.”