A Little Boy Lost

the grass with crimson. Presently it closed its beautiful ruby-coloured eyes and the quivering wings grew still.

Then Martin sat down on the grass by its side and began to cry, Oh, that great bird, half as tall as himself, and so many times more lovely and strong and beautiful in its life--he had killed it, and it would never fly again! He raised it up very tenderly in his arms and kissed it--kissed its pale green head and rosy wings; then out of his arms it tumbled back again on to the gr...