An old man had a field, and when he fell ill, he sent for his three sons, that he might take leave of them, and give them his last charge. “My sons,” said he, “there is one thing which, with my last breath, I charge you to do, and that is, to seek out a rich gift which I have left you, and which you will find in my field--” Here the poor old man’s voice grew faint, and his head sank down on his breast in death. The sons were in too much grief for their loss to put in force that which the old man had bade them do, till want drove them to seek for what they thought must be a hoard of gold in the field; so they made a search from end to end of it, till there was not a clod they did not turn, in the hunt. At last they gave it up. “It is strange that the old man should have set us on this long search for a thing that is not here,” said Jack. “Come,” said Dick, “since we have gone through so much toil on the field, we may as well sow it with corn, and so make the most of it.” At this bright thought they set to work to sow the grain, and in due time a crop sprang up, five times as large as those crops which grew there in the old man’s time. The thought now struck the youths that this was the wealth the old man meant, and that it was his wish that they should earn their bread by the sweat of their brow. Seek till you find, and you will not lose by the toil. [Illustration] THE HAWK, THE ROOKS, AND THE CAT. In the trunk of an old elm tree dwelt a large bird of prey, with claws blunt, and eyes blind with age. The rooks fed him from their own store, while he, on his part, took charge of their young ones when the old birds went in search of food. One day, a cat--“Long Ear” by name--came to prey on the young rooks, who, when they saw her, gave a loud scream. The old hawk heard it, and said, “Who is that?” “I am a cat,” said “Long Ear.” “Ha!” quoth the hawk, “Cats love flesh, and the young rooks dwell here--that’s all I know. Get you gone at once, or I will put you to death!” “Not so,” said the cat. “I eat no meat now; and all the beasts of the field and the birds of the air love me--for I am good. I pray of you to let me stay, for you are old and wise, and can teach me much.” By this praise sly puss made the old hawk put his trust in her, so he let her stay in the trunk of the tree. Day by day she ate some of the young birds, and took all the bones that were left from the feast to a hole in the stem of the old elm tree, that the death of the young rooks might be laid to the charge of the hawk. The old birds were in great grief for the loss of their young ones; and when they saw the bones in the hole of the tree, they of course laid the blame on the hawk, and they all flew at the poor old bird and put him to death. He said with his last breath, “Ah me! How much worse than a foe is a false friend!” THE COCK AND THE FOX.