182 Lom Seven Years Old.

“He wants help,” said Tom, directly; “I
can see by his face. And he’s afraid of mov-
ing nearer the edge of the stalk, in case he
tumbles into the water.”

_ They looked round. Just above him a tree
was growing, close to the pond.

“The nest must be there,” said Archie;
“and he’s fallen out. Poor little bird, he’s
too young to fly, so he’s just standing waiting
till somebody comes to help him.”

“And here we are!” called Tom to the
bird; “and we will—we will! Don’t move,
little bird—stand quite still. I’ll.climb the
tree, and find your home, and take you back
to it. Don’t be afraid !”

“T wonder his mother doesn’t come,” said
Archie.

“Perhaps,” answered Tom, “she had gone
out to get their dinner—this is the hour they
generally go, t think—and didn’t know any-
thing about it.”

Tom climbed the tree, while Archie
_ watched that the little bird did not fall into.
_ the water. He seemed quite happy standing