"There, granny! there! I was sure Pecksy would learn to love you," she exclaimed; and Pecksy looked up into the kind old lady's face, and seemed perfectly satisfied that no harm would come to it. "Oh, I wish Norman would be fond of the little bird too," she said, "but he does not seem to care about it, and thinks it beneath his notice; and yet I have heard of many boys--not only little ones, but big boys, and even grown-up men--who were fond of birds, and have tamed them, and taught them to come to them, and learn to trust and love them." "I do, indeed, wish that Norman was fond of your little bird," observed Mrs Leslie; "many noble and great men have been fond of dumb animals, and have found pleasure in the companionship even of little birds. It is no sign of true manliness to despise even the smallest of God's creatures, or to treat them otherwise than with kindness. You remember those lines of the poet Cowper which begin thus-- "`I would not enter on my list of friends (Though graced with polished manners and fine sense, Yet wanting sensibility) the man Who needlessly sets foot upon a worm.' "They refer rather to cruelty to animals, but they occurred to me just now when thinking of Norman, and we must try to get him to learn them, as I am afraid that he does not consider that all God's creatures have feeling, and that he would carelessly injure them if they came in his way." "I fear that at present he would do so, but then, he is very little," said Fanny, "and perhaps if he learns those lines they may teach him to be kinder than he now is to dumb animals; still, I am sure he would not have the heart to hurt little Pecksy." Poor Fanny judged of Norman by herself, notwithstanding the way he had so constantly behaved. She little thought of what he was capable of doing, still less of what he would become capable as he grew older, unless he was altogether changed. Fanny had just returned Pecksy to his cage when the laird and Norman entered. Norman boasted of the way in which he had handled his rod. "Mr Maclean says that I shall soon become a first-rate fly-fisher," he exclaimed. "I should have caught some fish to-day if I had had a hook. He would not let me put one on for fear I should hook him or myself, but I am determined to have one next time, and then you will see I shall bring back a whole basketful of fish." Fanny did not laugh at what Norman said, though she felt much inclined to do so. She remembered too well the effect her laughter had produced on the previous evening, and she was most anxious not to irritate his feelings. The laird had now, as he called it, taken Norman in hand, and for several days allowed the boy to accompany him when he went fishing on the loch. On each occasion he made him practise with his little rod and line, but would not permit him to put on a hook, in spite of the earnest request Norman made that he might be allowed to use one.