But the little bird would not hear more. He drowned her voice with loud carollings, and he kept on singing all the day, while the rain fell and pattered against the window-panes. All the day long it rained without ceasing. When the evening came, it held up for awhile, but the sky was still dark and lowering. Mary retired to her bed-room for the night, and placed her little bird on the dressing-table near the window; and when she had said her evening prayer, and lain down on her pillow with a quiet heart, the little creature gave one long-drawn note of song, and a calm sleep came over both bird and child. Once during the night, the veil of clouds parted for a moment, and a glowing little star sent a ray of its beauty into the room; but the darkness folded over it again, and when the morning came and Mary got up, it rained. Again! Still disappointment! Little Johnny, at the breakfast-table, kept on asking why he did not go to auntie’s; and it required a good deal of talking and coaxing to keep him from crying about it. Just as breakfast was over, who should ride up to the door but Thomas, auntie’s groom, mounted on a beautiful bay mare, but splashed up to the very saddle-girths, with mud and mire. Thomas brought a letter to Mary’s mamma, to say that the visit of the children would better be put off for a few days. At present, the lawn was soddened with water, and all the paths were wet and muddy. As the children wanted to amuse themselves out of doors, they must wait not only till the weather was fine, but also till the ground was dry. Now, to the ears of poor Mary and little Johnny, this sounded like a putting off of the invitation altogether. Johnny cried about it sadly, and Mary, partly out of love to him, and partly from her own disappointment, felt much inclined to cry too. She ran up to her bed-room, and tried to drive back the tears, by thinking of something bright and cheerful; but it was very difficult, for the pattering of the rain went on, and as the drops broke and melted on the window, they ran down it like tears. The furniture of the room was clammy and unpleasant to the touch, and now and then a big rain-drop fell down the chimney into the fire-place, and sounded on the bright fender. Altogether, it was very dismal. Mary looked up to her little bird; his round bright eye twinkled as bright and happy as ever. She remembered what he had said about the skies being always full of beauty, and she knew that it was true; but still she did long for the sunshine, and she could not help talking to her little pet about it:—“Oh, when will the sunshine come, my pretty bird? when will the sunshine come?” “Swe-et! swe-et?” said the bird:— “When the troubled breast is still, And duty guides and shapes the will;— When holy feelings upward stray, And meet the love of Heaven mid-way— In the heart without guile The sweet sunbeams shall smile, And joy all around, Like music-drops, sound.”