every spot searched but the very place the baby was in. Advertisements
were put in all the papers, and the poor father and mother were near
sinking under the distraction of their mind. Unfeeling Bill Boldface,
who could have set all to rights, had sailed off to America the very
morning after the sweet baby had disappeared.

At length, one morning, the distracted father perceived Fidelle
jumping upon the table and seizing a large piece of bread, fly off
with it to the wood. The Lord instantly put it in his heart to follow
the dog, who led him into the abbey; and there, surrounded by his
little subjects the birds, fast asleep, (for he had just fallen asleep
on his throne,) lay the little _monarch_. His hand was placed
under his little head, and the leaves of the ivy and the yew were all
scattered about him. "My child! my child!" said the poor father,
darting forward, and snatching him in his arms; "'tis my Henry! my
cherub! my darling! O gracious God! is it indeed my child?"

[Illustration: ]

The well-known voice aroused Henry, and flinging his little arms
around papa's neck, he begged to be taken instantly to mamma, saying,
as his happy papa carried him out of the abbey, "Good-bye, little
birds, good-bye: I'll come back to-morrow, and bring you some white
bread; but now I must go see mamma. Good-bye, little birds, good-bye."

Poor mamma, when she saw him, overcome by her feelings, fainted away.
When she recovered, she threw herself on her knees in gratitude to God
for thus so wonderfully preserving her little darling.

And now, my children, pause for a moment, and reflect on the goodness