THE NEWS-CARRIER.

"How do you know?" "Who told you so?" These words you often hear; And then it often happens, too, This answer meets your ear: "A little bird has told the tale, And far it spreads o'er hill and dale." Now let us see if this can be. How can the birds find out so well, And give the news to all? Or, if they know, why need they tell? And which among the feathered tribe Must we to keep our secrets bribe? The busy crow? As all well know, He sometimes breaks the laws; We shall regret it, when he does, For he will give us cause. Though slyest of the feathered tribe, The crow would scorn to need a bribe;— Not robin red; he holds his head With such an honest air, And whistles bravely at his work, But has no time to spare. "I mind my own concerns," says he; "They're most important, all may see;"— Nor birdie blue, so leal and true; He never heeds the weather, But in the latest winter-days His fellows flock together; And then, indeed, glad news they bring Of early buds and blossoming. Might not each one beneath the sun Of all the race reply, If questioned who should wear the cap, "Oh no! it is not I?" For there are none who, every day, Are busier at work than they. They chatter too, as others do; But what it is about, The wisest sage in all the earth Might puzzle to make out. But I'm as sure as I can be, They never talk of you or me, We hear "They say,"—oh, every day! Are they the birds, I wonder, That have such power with words to part The dearest friends asunder? Or must we search the wide world through To bring the culprits full in view? The birds, we see, though wild and free, Have something else to do; And, reader, don't you think the same Might well be said of you? It really seems to be a shame That they should always bear the blame.