A Lark had made her nest in Spring in a
field of young, green wheat. Her little
ones had been growing larger and stronger
all the Summer, while the wheat grew taller
and closer about their home.
As Autumn drew near, the young
birds
were almost old enough to fly, and the wheat
was nearly ripe.
One day the owner of the wheat-field came
by, and the little Larks heard him say to his
son, "Here will be a fine harvesting of wheat.
I must send to all my neighbors to come and
help me gather it in."
This startled the birds. They could
hardly
wait for their mother to come home to move
them to a place of safety.
"There is no need for moving yet, my children,"
said the mother. But when she left
them, as usual, the next morning, she charged
them to listen to what the farmer said, if he
came again, and to remember so as to tell her
exactly what it was, when she came back to
them.
After a few days the owner of the field
came again, and the eager birds listened to
get more news for their mother.
"Since our neighbors have not come," the
farmer said, "go and ask your uncles and
cousins to come and help us, for our wheat is
ready to harvest."
"We must move now! we must surely
move!" said the young Larks, "or the reapers
will come and kill us all."
"Not yet," said the mother; "the man who
only sends to his friends to help him is not to
be feared; but watch and listen, if he comes
again."
And by and by he come. Seeing the
wheat
so ripe that it was shedding its grain, he said,
"To-morrow we will come ourselves and cut
the wheat."
And when the birds told this to their
mother, she said, "It is time now to be off,
my children, for the man is in earnest this
time. He no longer trusts to others to do his
work, but means to do it himself.
Self help is the best help.
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