And at dawn a light breeze ruffled its feathers and sprinkled glistening drops upon its pure white breast.

Its eyes opened. It stretched its neck, shook its wings as if reaching for the blushing dawn, and then tried to fly, its feet making a watery furrow along the surface of the sea.

And then, with a final thrust, it rose above the water.

Higher, ever higher, until at last it reached the open sky And it flew on alone above the silvery waves.

THE OLD FIRE-DOG

Careless parents sometimes go out and leave their children at home alone. If a fire should break out the children could well die, for in their panic the little ones often keep silent and hide, and no one can find them through the smoke.

Special fire-dogs used to be trained to save children. When a house caught fire, the firemen would send in their dogs to bring out any little ones from the blazing building. One famous dog rescued as many as a dozen children. Here is the story of one of his rescues.

When firemen once arrived at a burning house, they were met by a sobbing woman who told them that her two-year-old daughter was still trapped in the blazing house. The famous fire-dog was sent in.

He dashed through the smoke into the building and up the stairs. Several minutes later he came running out of the door, holding the little girl by her nightgown.

The firemen patted the good old fire-dog, inspecting his fur to see that it had not been singed in the fire. But the brave dog strained back toward the house. Thinking there must be someone left in the building, the firemen let him go.

Bounding through the flames and smoke, the dog soon reappeared with another bundle in his teeth. The crowd gathered around in silence to take a closer look. Then smiles gradually spread over all the faces.

For the old fire-dog was carrying a big rag doll.

TWO MERCHANTS

A poor merchant once went on his travels, leaving all his iron merchandise with a rich merchant for safekeeping. When he returned, he went to the wealthy merchant and asked for his ironwares back.

But the wealthy merchant had already sold them and now had to make his excuses.

“I’m sorry to say that your iron is all gone.”

“What happened?”

“It’s like this: I stored your wares in my barn, and the mice came and ate them. They finished off the whole lot. I myself saw them nibbling at it. Go and see if you don’t believe me.”

The poor merchant did not bother to argue. He simply said:

“What is there to see? I believe you. I know mice are always eating iron.”

And the poor merchant went off.

Once outside, he saw the rich merchant’s son playing in the yard, and he persuaded the boy to come along with him.

Next day the wealthy merchant met the poor man and told him of his misfortune. His son had disappeared. Had he not seen or heard anything?

To which the poor merchant said, “Now that you ask, I did see something. I was just leaving your house yesterday when a hawk flew down and snatched up your son.”

The wealthy merchant flew into a rage, crying, “How dare you make fun of me. Everybody knows hawks don’t carry off children.”

Tut I’m not making fun of you,” said the poor man. “Why should a hawk not carry off a boy, when mice can eat a hundred pounds of iron?”

At that the wealthy merchant understood.

“Mice did not eat your iron,” he said. “I sold it and will pay you double.”

“In that case, a hawk did not carry off your son,” replied the other. “I’ll bring him back at once.”

THE OLD POPLAR

For five years our garden was neglected. Then I hired some workers with axes and spades and we went to work in the garden. We cut down and hewed out deadwood and brambles and the odd bush and tree. The poplar and bird-cherry were the worst culprits in being overgrown and stunting other trees. The poplar comes up from the roots, so you simply cannot cut it down, you have to grub out the roots.

Beyond the lake stood a huge poplar, two armfuls in girth. Around it was a glade all overgrown with poplar shoots.