house; but there being no actual proof against her, she was let off, and the real thief, whoever he or she was, escaped detection. In a few months the tailor went to live in another town. After a year or so the musician paid him a visit, and he found his friend had for company a beautiful bird, a bullfinch, which could whistle several tunes very correctly. This, of course, delighted the musician, and he liked to hear it; but, what was very curious, he soon found that the bullfinch, whenever it came to a certain high note, always skipped it, and went on to the next. How did that happen? It at last struck him that the very note which the bird skipped was the very note which his flute skipped, and he came to the conclusion in his own mind that the bullfinch must have been taught in some way from his stolen flute. He put it to the tailor whether he had not taken his flute? and, at length, the tailor, pale and trembling, confessed the theft. Ah! how was his pleasure suddenly turned into shame! Little did he dream that the bird which he had spent hours and hours in teaching would be a witness against him. Indeed, it was the very perfectness with which the little creature learned its lessons that brought to light its master's guilt. If we break God's laws, the most innocent things will testify against us. It is not necessary to hunt up witnesses; they come of themselves, often when we least expect it; making good, in one way or another, the warning of the Bible, "Be sure your sin will find you out." HENRY VI. ENRY succeeded, while up to be of a mild, easy temper, but was very feeble in mind, and quite unfit to be a King. Before we speak much of him, we must remind you of his father's brilliant conquests in France, and that when he died he appointed the Duke of Bedford, Regent. The unhappy King of France, Charles VI., died soon after his conqueror, Henry V. of England; and his son, Charles, at once assumed the title of King of France, and set to work to regain the kingdom. The English nobles resolved to do their best to keep the victories that had been won. The Earl of Salisbury laid siege to Orleans,— which remained true to Charles, to give her an escort to conduct her to Orleans. She was an expert rider, and she was so enthusiastic in her belief that it was the will of God she should succeed, that she put spirit into the soldiers, and she led them on to victory. She also had her desire accomplished in seeing Charles crowned; and, when the ceremony was over, she begged to return home, as her mission was fulfilled. This was refused, and we grieve to say that this heroic young woman was taken prisoner by the English, being deserted by her countrymen, who grew jealous of her. We are sorry to add that the hitherto noble Duke of Bedford allowed her to be burnt alive, and thus left a stain on his memory. The Duke of Bedford soon after died. The Duke of York was appointed Regent; but the English power declined, and at last the two nations agreed to have six years' truce. Henry VI. of England, to whom we must now return, took as little part as he could in government. He married Margaret of Anjou, a woman of high spirit, and of great courage; but she was wanting in prudence, and undertook to govern the country with her favourite nobles. She gave great offence to the Duke of York, and he resolved to assert his own right to the crown of England, as the direct heir of Edward III., and he certainly had the nearer claim; but the succession was not always kept in the direct line, and the Parliament was unwilling to dethrone Henry. Thus began the civil wars between the Houses of York and Lancaster. The King's followers were called Lancastrians; those of the Duke of York, Yorkists. There were also mobs and tumults in the country among the lower orders. The most formidable was that headed by a man called Jack Cade, who defeated the King's army, and declared himself master of London. He was, however, killed by a gentleman of Kent, and the picture represents the combat between them. The poor King became insane, and the Duke of York was appointed Regent. On his recovery, he was forced, against his will, into another battle, and the Duke of York was victor. He appealed to be made King; but the Parliament agreed that Henry should not be dethroned; but that his son, the Prince of Wales, should give up his right to the Duke of York at his father's death. His mother, Margaret, resolved that his rights should be maintained; and she managed to raise an army of twenty thousand men. They defeated the Duke of York's army, and he was slain. The Queen was cruel as she was brave, and ordered many of the nobles to be beheaded without a trial. Another battle took place, in which the Yorkists were victorious; and the young Duke of York, Edward, was proclaimed King by the consent of the people. Henry VI. lived some time after this event; but here ends his inglorious reign. We shall hear more of the Queen in the reign of Edward IV. A DAISY'S WORK. All your petals, fair and white, Fringed with rosy glow, Work is ready, little one, You must look up to the sun, You must grow through sun and shower, Turning them to good, On their fluttering wing, Little children, too, will learn There is use and work for you, Tiny daisy white; And God sends you down the dew Every morn and night. God will send, His flower to bless, We shall find His happiness, UP TO THE HILLS. BY UNCLE ISAAC. HIS is a glorious day. The sun begins to shine warmly again, after the cold of winter, and I can hear the merry birds warbling in the trees opposite my study-window. The spring is passing, and the glad and happy summer approaches. Let me put on my strong boots, and away for a walk to the hills. I will leave the town behind me, and its throng of busy people, and get away to where I can read the great book of nature, with God alone for my teacher. I have climbed the gate, and am now out in the green fields. How happy those young horses look, grazing on the soft spring grass! Look at those sheep yonder by the hedge-side. What can they be doing? Ah! I see. Here is a gap in the fence, and the leader of the flock has forced his way through, and one by one the others are following him. They climb the bank, press through the thorns, and leap down on the other side. Those who have not passed stand patiently waiting till their turn comes. They all seem bent on going through, though I doubt much whether any one of them has a right to graze in that other field. How easily are they led astray! Foolish sheep! Must you all follow where one leads? Has not one of you a mind of his own? But I must walk on, or I shall never reach my destination, the hills. The little girl at the door of that cottage is watching me, as though I belonged to some other world; and the jay on yonder oak-tree is screaming harshly at me. Pity that so fine a bird should have so rough a tongue! Now I am standing at the hillfoot. But what a height to climb! Let me grasp my staff, and prepare to mount. There! I am about half-way to the top. I have spread out my pockethandkerchief on the green turf, and am resting a little. We need rest sometimes in climbing life's high hills. And life has its hills. How glad am I sometimes to get away from the toil and noise of life, and rest my spirit awhile! But I must not sit thinking here. Let me make another effort to reach the top. This is hard work indeed. How my heart is beating! And my breathing is quick and short. This is doing me good. Perhaps this hillclimbing may save me a doctor's bill. And a much pleasanter medicine than the doctor's, as well as cheaper. But now I may pause and look around; for I am standing on the very summit of the hill. These old pine-trees look grandly on the hill-top, and form a fine shelter from the cold wind which blows here. Below is a beautiful scene. I can trace the course of the noble Wye for miles, as it winds through the landscape below. There are within sight four or five churches, and I can count as |