528 THE DAISY.

of comfort, willingly as she would have done. The whole
morning was spent in this manner.

“Here is no water,” said the captive lark; “they have all gone
out and have forgotten to give me a drop to drink. My throat is
parched and:burning. I feel as if J had fire within me ; and
the air isso heavy. Alas! I must die and bid farewell to the
warm sunshine, to the green grass, and to all the beautiful
things created by God!” and he drilled a hole with his beak
in the cool patch of grass, in the hopes of allaying his thirst.
He then happened to see the daisy, and nodded to her, and
kissed her with his bill, saying, “You, too, will wither here,
you poor little flower! Yourself, and this little patch of green
grass,.is all that is given in exchange for the whole world that
Tenjoyed abroad. Each little blade of grass must serve me for a
green tree, each of your white leaves must stand to me instead of a
fragrant flower. ‘Alas! you only tell me of all I have lost.” —
“Would that I could comfort him,” thought the daisy, but
she could not move a leaf; yet the perfume wafted from her
Jeaves was much stronger than is usual in such flowers ; and the
bird perceived as much, for though he was pining with thirst,
and tore up the green blades of grass in his anguish, yet he did
not touch the flower.

It was now evening, and nobody had come to bring the poor
bird a drop-of water. He spread out his pretty wings and
shook them convulsively. His song was only a mournful
“Tweat! tweat!” his little head bent towards the flower, and
the bird's heart broke with vain longing.

Nor could the flower fold up her leaves and go to sleep as
she had done the night before, but, sick and mournful, she
drooped towards the earth.

It was only on the following morning that the boys came,
and when they found the bird dead, they shed many, many