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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Stories of Birds + +Author: Lenore Elizabeth Mulets + +Release Date: February 8, 2007 [EBook #20547] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STORIES OF BIRDS *** + + + + +Produced by Al Haines + + + + + +</pre> + + +<A NAME="img-cover"></A> +<CENTER> +<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-cover.jpg" ALT="Cover Art" BORDER="2" WIDTH="460" HEIGHT="711"> +<H3 CLASS="h3center" STYLE="width: 460px"> +Cover Art +</H3> +</CENTER> + +<BR><BR> + +<A NAME="img-front"></A> +<H3> +[Frontispiece: "He came quite close and stared at the little girl" +(missing from book)] +</H3> + +<BR><BR> + +<H1 ALIGN="center"> +STORIES OF BIRDS +</H1> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +By +</H3> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +Lenore Elizabeth Mulets +</H2> + +<BR><BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +<I>Illustrated by</I> +<BR> +Sophie Schneider +</H4> + +<BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +<I> +"When our babe he goeth walking in his garden<BR> +Around his tinkling feet the sunbeams play;<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">The posies they are good to him</SPAN><BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And bow them as they should to him</SPAN><BR> +As he fareth upon his kingly way:<BR> +The birdlings of the wood to him<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Make music, gentle music, all the day</SPAN><BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">When our babe he goeth walking in his garden."</SPAN><BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">—Eugene Field.</SPAN><BR> +</I> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +Boston: L. C. Page and Company +<BR> +Publishers +</H4> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H5 ALIGN="center"> +Copyright, 1903 +<BR> +By L. C. PAGE & COMPANY +<BR> +(Incorporated) +<BR><BR> +All rights reserved +<BR><BR> +Made in U.S.A. +<BR><BR> +New Edition, April, 1925 +<BR><BR> +THE COLONIAL PRESS +<BR> +C. H. SIMONDS CO., BOSTON, U. S. A. +</H5> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +PREFACE +</H3> + +<P> +Where can you find a lad who does not treasure among his secrets the +nesting-place of some pair of birds? Where can you find a child who +does not watch for the first robin of spring-time? Where can you find +one who does not know when the wild ducks in the wedge-shaped flocks +fly southward? +</P> + +<P> +This little book of "Bird Stories" is written both for the children who +already know our common birds, and for those who may know them if they +choose. +</P> + +<P> +For those children who know, the book is a verification of their own +facts, with an addition of stories, poems, and songs to make facts +beautiful; for the children who do not know, the book is a simple set +of facts placed before them for verification and entertainment. +</P> + +<P> +To all, may the knowledge obtained be a pleasure and a delight. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +LENORE ELIZABETH MULETS. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +CONTENTS +</H2> + +<BR> + +<H3> +The Chickadee<BR> + <A HREF="#chap01">In the Snow</A><BR> + <A HREF="#chap02">Twenty Little Chickadees</A><BR> + <A HREF="#chap03">The Snowbird's Song</A><BR> + <A HREF="#chap04">How the Birds Got Their Feathers</A><BR> + <A HREF="#chap05">Chilly Little Chickadees</A><BR> + <A HREF="#chap06">All About the Chickadee</A><BR> +</H3> + +<H3> +Robin Redbreast<BR> + <A HREF="#chap07">Merry Robin Redbreast</A><BR> + <A HREF="#chap08">The Robin's Red Breast</A><BR> + <A HREF="#chap09">Which Was the Wiser?</A><BR> + <A HREF="#chap10">All About the Robin</A><BR> +</H3> + +<H3> +The Swallow<BR> + <A HREF="#chap11">Under the Eaves</A><BR> + <A HREF="#chap12">The Swallows</A><BR> + <A HREF="#chap13">All About the Barn Swallow</A><BR> +</H3> + +<H3> +The Hawk and the Raven<BR> + <A HREF="#chap14">From the Barnyard Fence</A><BR> + <A HREF="#chap15">The First Hawk</A><BR> + <A HREF="#chap16">Origin of the Raven and the Macaw</A><BR> + <A HREF="#chap17">All About the Chicken-Hawk</A><BR> + <A HREF="#chap18">All About the Raven</A><BR> +</H3> + +<H3> +The Kingfisher<BR> + <A HREF="#chap19">With the Water Watchman</A><BR> + <A HREF="#chap20">The Halcyon Birds</A><BR> + <A HREF="#chap21">All About the Kingfisher</A><BR> +</H3> + +<H3> +The Red-Headed Woodpecker<BR> + <A HREF="#chap22">In Cap of Red</A><BR> + <A HREF="#chap23">A Legend of the Northland</A><BR> + <A HREF="#chap24">All About the Woodpecker</A><BR> +</H3> + +<H3> +The Lark<BR> + <A HREF="#chap25">In the Meadow</A><BR> + <A HREF="#chap26">The Song of the Merry Lark</A><BR> + <A HREF="#chap27">Saved by a Lark</A><BR> + <A HREF="#chap28">All About the Meadow Lark</A><BR> +</H3> + +<H3> +The Owl<BR> + <A HREF="#chap29">A Good-Night</A><BR> + <A HREF="#chap30">The Owl (Tennyson)</A><BR> + <A HREF="#chap31">The Owl Girl</A><BR> + <A HREF="#chap32">The Owl and the Raven</A><BR> + <A HREF="#chap33">The Owl (Shakespeare)</A><BR> + <A HREF="#chap34">All About the Barred or Hoot Owl</A><BR> +</H3> + +<H3> +The Bobolink<BR> + <A HREF="#chap35">A Summer Song</A><BR> + <A HREF="#chap36">Robert of Lincoln</A><BR> + <A HREF="#chap37">All About the Bobolink or Rice-Bird</A><BR> +</H3> + +<H3> +The Sea-Doves and the Great Blue Heron<BR> + <A HREF="#chap38">Beside the Sea</A><BR> + <A HREF="#chap39">Sea-Pigeons</A><BR> + <A HREF="#chap40">The Sandpiper</A><BR> + <A HREF="#chap41">The Circling of Cranes</A><BR> + <A HREF="#chap42">All About the Great Blue Heron or Blue Crane</A><BR> + <A HREF="#chap43">All About the Sea-Dove</A><BR> +</H3> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS +</H2> + +<BR> + +<H3> +<A HREF="#img-front"> +"He came quite close and stared at the little +girl" (see page 4) . . . . . . Frontispiece<BR> +</A> +</H3> + +<H3> +<A HREF="#img-033"> +"By this time the robin was on the ground" +</A> +</H3> + +<H3> +<A HREF="#img-061"> +"'No robin or chickadee could build such nests as the swallow'" +</A> +</H3> + +<H3> +<A HREF="#img-099"> +"On a branch sat a bird. He was considerably larger than a robin" +</A> +</H3> + +<H3> +<A HREF="#img-170"> +"The owl only blinked his great eyes" +</A> +</H3> + +<H3> +<A HREF="#img-191"> +"'She is sitting on a nestful of light blue eggs'" +</A> +</H3> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap01"></A> +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +THE CHICKADEE +<BR> +OR SNOWBIRD +</H2> + +<BR> + +<A NAME="img-003"></A> +<CENTER> +<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-003.jpg" ALT="The Chickadee" BORDER="2" WIDTH="360" HEIGHT="451"> +<H3 CLASS="h3center" STYLE="width: 360px"> +The Chickadee +</H3> +</CENTER> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +IN THE SNOW +</H3> + +<P> +It was a bright, wintry day. The frost jewels sparkled on the snow. +The winds blew cutting cold from the north. +</P> + +<P> +Phyllis, in her scarlet coat and cap, and long, warm leggings, waded in +the deepest drifts she could find. +</P> + +<P> +Out by the garden fence was the greatest drift. After floundering +through it, Phyllis climbed up and perched on the top rail of the fence. +</P> + +<P> +She sat quite still, for she was almost breathless after her struggle +in the snow. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly, just over her head, Phyllis heard a whistle. She started so +that she almost fell from the fence. +</P> + +<P> +Again came the whistle, clear, sweet, and long drawn out. Phyllis +looked up, and there on the branch of the elm-tree sat a cheery little +bird. +</P> + +<P> +With a third whistle he flew down to the fence and perched beside +Phyllis. +</P> + +<P> +He came quite close and stared at the little girl in a gay, curious +manner, as though he might be looking for a playfellow. +</P> + +<P> +"Who are you?" asked Phyllis, looking like a great red bird as she +perched on the fence. +</P> + +<P> +"Chick-a-dee! Chick-a-dee! Chick-a-dee-dee-dee!" twittered the little +fellow. It seemed to Phyllis that he laughed because she did not know +him. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, to be sure," said she. "How stupid of me not to remember. I have +met you a hundred times. +</P> + +<P> +"I should have remembered your black head and throat. The sides of +your head and neck are white. Your breasts and sides are light yellow. +Your tail and wings are of a much darker shade, and how daintily they +are edged with white!" +</P> + +<P> +The chickadee fluttered about for a moment, and noticing the +friendliness in Phyllis's tones he perched a little closer to her side. +</P> + +<P> +"I do not believe you noticed the large white feathers in my +shoulders," he said. "You may always know a chickadee by the white +markings there." +</P> + +<P> +"I did not notice your white shoulders at first," said Phyllis, "but I +saw at once what fine downy feathers you have. They are beautifully +soft. Do they make a warm winter dress? How do you chance to be here +in the winter-time? +</P> + +<P> +"I think it is time you were in the South, Mr. Chickadee! Did your +family leave you behind?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, indeed," replied Mr. Chickadee. "No, indeed, Phyllis! My entire +family are wintering here in the North. We never go South for the +winter. +</P> + +<P> +"We are quite happy to remain here at home, and to come out on sunshiny +days and whistle and sing and be happy. +</P> + +<P> +"Only half an hour ago some boys went coasting down that hill. I +whistled at them but they did not hear me. +</P> + +<P> +"Soon they came up the hill, drawing their sleds behind them. I +whistled again and called my name. +</P> + +<P> +"'Why, hello,' cried a boy in a blue reefer and a blue stocking cap. +'Hello, chickadee, you're a jolly little fellow! We call you our fair +weather friend because you sing so cheerily on these clear frosty days.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Oho!' laughed another boy, who had a big scratch on his nose, 'I saw +a chickadee flying about among the fir-trees on that very stormy day +last week. He sang just as cheerily through the storm.' Then the boy +whistled back to me and called my name." +</P> + +<P> +"That was my brother Jack," laughed Phyllis. "He got that scratch +while out coasting. He told me that he saw you on that stormy day. He +loves the winter quite as well as you do. You should hear him sing and +whistle when the snow falls for coasting. You should hear him shout +when the cold skating days come. He says that Jack Frost is a fellow's +best friend." +</P> + +<P> +"Indeed," said the jolly little chickadee, blinking his eyes in a funny +way, "my brothers say the very same thing!" +</P> + +<P> +"But how do you find anything to eat in the winter-time?" Phyllis +asked. "The insects and worms have long been dead. What did you have +for breakfast this morning?" +</P> + +<P> +"We had eggs and—" +</P> + +<P> +"Eggs?" cried Phyllis, not waiting for the bird to finish. "You had +eggs?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, moth's eggs," said the bird. "The moths leave their eggs about +in all sorts of places. We chickadees know where to find them!" +</P> + +<P> +"Are they—good?" asked Phyllis. +</P> + +<P> +"Delicious!" replied the chickadee. "I think I have eaten more than a +million insects' eggs in my life. I shall never tire of them." +</P> + +<P> +"Where do you sleep?" Phyllis asked. +</P> + +<P> +"In the fir-trees, to be sure," was the reply. "It is quite warm in +there, among the many branches, and as soon as we waken we can get our +breakfasts. There are all sorts of eggs and sleeping insects among the +fir branches." +</P> + +<P> +Phyllis looked from her own thick red leggings to the chickadee's light +blue legs. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't your feet get very cold?" she asked. "You surely need some +leggings." +</P> + +<P> +The chickadee chirruped and twittered and fluttered until Phyllis +suddenly saw that he was laughing at her. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know what cold feet are!" he said. "I'm glad no one gave me +red leggings for Christmas." +</P> + +<P> +"What did you get for Christmas?" +</P> + +<P> +"A wonderfully fine dinner spread on a white snow table-cloth under the +cherry-tree!" replied the bird. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, did you come to my bird feast?" cried the little girl. "I spread +crumbs and bird seed for you. Jack wanted to hang a meat bone in the +cedar-tree. He said that you would like it better. Indeed, I believe +he did hang one there. Did you ever see it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, yes, Phyllis, many a day have we pecked away at that meat bone. +It was really very good." +</P> + +<P> +"Jack read in a book that you were fond of pecking at meat bones. He +will be glad to know that it is true!" +</P> + +<P> +"Thank him for us," said the chickadee. "You were kind to remember us!" +</P> + +<P> +"Ah," said Phyllis, "but it was kind of you to remain behind to cheer +us when all the other birds have gone to warmer lands. +</P> + +<P> +"But, chickadee, though you are so cheery and gay in winter, are you +not really happier in the summer-time?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, we are so busy in summer," the chickadee replied. "Last May I +travelled miles and miles looking for a vacant house." +</P> + +<P> +"Looking for a vacant house?" cried Phyllis, with wide brown eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"For housekeeping," said the chickadee. "You see my mate and I had +never kept house before. She was very anxious to find a most suitable +place. +</P> + +<P> +"My wife said a woodpecker's nest was the very place, but I rather +preferred a squirrel's hole. +</P> + +<P> +"For a long time we could find neither to suit us. But at length I +heard Mrs. Chickadee calling loudly. I flew to her side at once. +</P> + +<P> +"'What is it?' I cried. +</P> + +<P> +"'Look!' cried Mrs. Chickadee, pointing with her bill and flapping her +wings with joy. +</P> + +<P> +"Through the thick of the woods ran a gray old rail fence. Woodbine +and wild hop vines wellnigh covered it. The posts were gray where they +were not moss-covered. +</P> + +<P> +"In one of these gray-green posts was a hole where a pair of +woodpeckers had once built their nest. +</P> + +<P> +"'This is the very place for us!' cried Mrs. Chickadee. 'It could not +be better though we hollowed it out for ourselves.'" +</P> + +<P> +"Could you?" asked Phyllis, looking at the bird's little short black +bill. +</P> + +<P> +"If need be, we could, indeed," replied the chickadee. "But we would +far rather find a knot-hole, or a squirrel's or woodpecker's deserted +nest. +</P> + +<P> +"When we had decided on the spot," the bird went on, "we at once began +lining the nest. We carried fine grasses and soft feathers. We found +mosses and rabbits' fur to make it soft. +</P> + +<P> +"Those were indeed happy days for us. They were also exciting days. +We were very careful to let no one know what we were about. +</P> + +<P> +"Once, as I flew home with a bit of moss, I saw a boy lying on the +grass not far from our fence-post. It would never do to let him know +our secret. Boys are not to be trusted. +</P> + +<P> +"I perched upon the fence and pretended that I had never a thought of +nest building. +</P> + +<P> +"In a moment Mrs. Chickadee came flying home with a soft, downy +feather. When I called out warningly she at once flew to me. +</P> + +<P> +"Then the boy called softly to his little sister. +</P> + +<P> +"'Come quick,' he said, 'if you want to watch these birds build their +nest.' +</P> + +<P> +"A little dark-eyed girl crept up beside the boy. We scarcely knew +what to do. Soon a bright idea occurred to me. I began to sing my +very best. I also performed my most wonderful tricks. I whirled round +and round. I darted between the rails. I spun about. +</P> + +<P> +"The children became so interested in my performance that they forgot +to watch Mrs. Chickadee. When they were not looking her way, she flew +to the nest and arranged the feather. +</P> + +<P> +"When she returned she took my place on the fence. Now my wife and I +look very much alike, and though she cannot perform quite as nimbly as +I, the children did not know when we changed places. +</P> + +<P> +"While the children watched her I flew to the nest with my bit of moss. +</P> + +<P> +"'What a pity!' said the little girl, as we flew away laughing to +ourselves. 'They stopped to play and they lost the bits of moss and +feathers with which they meant to make their nest!' +</P> + +<P> +"'Chick-a-dee! Chick-a-dee! Chick-a-dee!' called back my wife +happily." +</P> + +<P> +All this time Phyllis's eyes were growing rounder and bigger. +</P> + +<P> +"Why," said she, "I never knew there was but one bird performing on the +fence. I thought the other flew away!" +</P> + +<P> +"That was because Mrs. Chickadee and I look so much alike," replied Mr. +Chickadee. +</P> + +<P> +"But we did find your nest a few days later," said Phyllis. "In it +were six small white eggs covered with tiny red specks. We went to +look at the nest every day until the eggs hatched. Then we went +several times a day until the baby birds learned to fly and left the +nest empty. +</P> + +<P> +"But you did not disturb us," said the chickadee, "though we were +dreadfully frightened at first." +</P> + +<P> +At that moment a great soft snowball went plump! against Phyllis's red +cap. +</P> + +<P> +"Jack!" she cried, scrambling off the fence and running after the boy +with the scratch on his nose. "Jack, take me for a ride on your sled!" +</P> + +<P> +Then she looked back. The chickadee now sat in the tree-top. +</P> + +<P> +"Tell Mrs. Chickadee," called Phyllis, "that I shall spread some more +crumbs and seeds on the white table-cloth this afternoon. We'll hang +another bone in the cedar-tree, too!" +</P> + +<P> +"Chick-a-dee-dee-dee!" cried the little bird in a flutter of delight. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap02"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +TWENTY LITTLE CHICKADEES +</H3> + + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Twenty little chickadees,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Sitting in a row;</SPAN><BR> +Twenty pairs of naked feet<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Buried in the snow.</SPAN><BR> +I should think you'd fly away<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Where the weather's warm,</SPAN><BR> +Then you wouldn't have to be<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Out there in the storm.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Sorry little chickadees,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Don't you know the way?</SPAN><BR> +Can't you find the road to go<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Where 'tis always May?</SPAN><BR> +Robins all have found it out,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Wrens and bluebirds too,</SPAN><BR> +Don't you wish you'd thought to ask<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Ere away they flew?</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap03"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE SNOWBIRD'S SONG[1] +</H3> + + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The ground was all covered with snow, one day,<BR> +And two little sisters were busy at play—<BR> +A snowbird was sitting close by on a tree,<BR> +And merrily singing his chick-a-de-dee!<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +He had not been singing that tune very long,<BR> +When Emily heard him, so loud was his song.<BR> +"Oh, sister, look out of the window!" said she,<BR> +"Here's a dear little bird, singing chick-a-de-dee!<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"Poor fellow! he walks in the snow and the sleet<BR> +And has neither stockings nor shoes on his feet,<BR> +I wonder what makes him so full of his glee,<BR> +And why he keeps singing, his chick-a-de-dee.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"If I were a barefooted snowbird, I know,<BR> +I would not stay out in the cold and the snow.<BR> +I pity him so! Oh, how cold he must be,<BR> +And yet he keeps singing his chick-a-de-dee.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"Oh, mother, do get him some stockings and shoes,<BR> +And a nice little frock, and a hat, let him choose.<BR> +I wish he'd come into the parlour, and see<BR> +How warm we would make him, poor chick-a-de-dee!"<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The bird had flown down for some sweet crumbs of bread,<BR> +And heard every word little Emily said.<BR> +"How funny I'd look in that costume!" thought he,<BR> +And he laughed, as he warbled his chick-a-de-dee.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"I am grateful," said he, "for the wish you express,<BR> +But I have no occasion for such a fine dress.<BR> +I'd rather remain with my little limbs free,<BR> +Than to hobble about singing chick-a-de-dee.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"There is One, my dear child, though I cannot tell who,<BR> +Has clothed me already, and warm enough, too.<BR> +Good morning! Oh, who are so happy as we?"<BR> +And away he flew, singing his chick-a-de-dee.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="footnote"> +[1] From "The Second Reader—of the Rational Method In Reading." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap04"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +HOW THE BIRDS GOT THEIR FEATHERS +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +(IROQUOIS MYTH) +</H3> + +<P> +That evening, as the family sat beside the hearth, Phyllis thought of +the brave little chickadees out in the fir-trees. +</P> + +<P> +"I wonder if they are really warm enough," she said. "Do feathers make +a warm dress, mother? Why do birds have feathers instead of fur?" +</P> + +<P> +"I have heard the story that the Indians tell of how the birds got +their feathers," said mother. "Bring your chairs closer and I will +tell the story to you." +</P> + +<P> +So the children drew their chairs up into the firelight, and listened +to this little Indian story: +</P> + +<P> +"Once some little Indian children," began the mother, "gathered about +the fire inside their deerskin wigwam and begged their mother for a +story. +</P> + +<P> +"Each little Indian was wrapped in a bright coloured blanket. Each +little Indian wore long turkey buzzard feathers in his hair. +</P> + +<P> +"The Indian mother looked at her baby braves proudly. She thought of +the time when each of the children was a tiny papoose and swung in a +deerskin cradle like a bird in its nest. +</P> + +<P> +"'There was a time,' said the Indian squaw, 'when the birds had no +feathers. +</P> + +<P> +"'Being naked, they remained hidden among the leaves. Being ashamed +they were silent, and no bird-note sweetened the stillness of the +forest. +</P> + +<P> +"'At last with faint chirpings the mother birds prayed the Great Spirit +for blankets in which to wrap their little ones. +</P> + +<P> +"'Then the Great Spirit, seeing their sorry plight, sent a messenger to +the birds, who told them that even now coverings were ready for every +bird. +</P> + +<P> +"'The messenger said that hereafter each family of birds should dress +in uniform, so that the forest people, seeing a bird, might know at +once, by its dress, to what bird family it belonged. +</P> + +<P> +"'But alas! the messenger also said that the uniforms were a great way +off. He himself could not bring them to the forest. The birds must +choose one who was strong of wing and able to endure great hardships, +to go back with him and bring the uniforms home. +</P> + +<P> +"'The poor featherless birds looked about for one who was brave and +fearless and untiring. A council was held to induce some bird to go on +this long journey. +</P> + +<P> +"'But one and all pleaded some excuse. Some must remain to care for +the babes still in the nest. Some were too old to undertake the +journey. Some were too young to find the way. +</P> + +<P> +"'Some had been ill and were still too weak to travel. Indeed, the +birds seemed to be in as sad a plight as before. +</P> + +<P> +"'At last there stepped forth a bird, who, truth to tell, was not a +general favourite among his fellows. His name was turkey buzzard. +</P> + +<P> +"'The bird agreed to undertake the long journey and bring back the +feathery uniforms, if he could choose the most beautiful coat of +feathers for himself and his family for ever. +</P> + +<P> +"'To this the other birds consented, and the featherless turkey buzzard +flew away. +</P> + +<P> +"'It was indeed a long and a dangerous journey. Sometimes the poor +bird nearly dropped from weariness and hunger. Sometimes, so hungry +was he, that he was forced to make a meal off from some dead animal +which lay in the way. Indeed so often did he do this that in time he +came to like this food. +</P> + +<P> +"'It came to pass, after many days, that the turkey buzzard, being +directed by the Great Spirit, found the feathery uniforms. +</P> + +<P> +"'He at once began to look them over. He intended to choose the most +beautiful coat of feathers for himself and his family. +</P> + +<P> +"'Soon he found a suit of most gorgeous colours. He tried it on, and +looked at his own reflection in the water. The dress was very +beautiful. Well pleased with himself and his dress the turkey buzzard +gathered up the remaining uniforms and started for home. +</P> + +<P> +"'But alas! the new dress, although so beautiful, did not fit +comfortably. The poor bird found that he could not fly well in his new +dress. He tried another and still another bright coloured dress, but +in none of them was he comfortable. +</P> + +<P> +"'At length, quite discouraged, he slipped into a quiet, dark uniform. +Although this suit was the least beautiful it fitted comfortably and +gracefully. In it the turkey buzzard flew away home, and in such +uniform have his family ever since been content to dress. +</P> + +<P> +"'The turkey buzzards are quite willing to leave the more gorgeous +dresses for those birds who cannot fly so far nor so gracefully as +they.'" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap05"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHILLY LITTLE CHICKADEES[1] +</H3> + + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Chilly little chickadees,<BR> +Sitting in a row,<BR> +Chilly little chickadees,<BR> +Buried in the snow,<BR> +Don't you find it very cold<BR> +For your little feet?<BR> +Don't you find it hard to get<BR> +Anything to eat?<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Hungry little chickadees,<BR> +Would you like some bread?<BR> +I will give you all you want,<BR> +Or some seed, instead,<BR> +Anything you like to eat<BR> +I will give you free,<BR> +Every morning, every night,<BR> +If you come to me.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Jolly little chickadees,<BR> +Have you had enough?<BR> +Don't forget to come again<BR> +When the weather's rough.<BR> +Bye, bye, happy little birds!<BR> +Off the wee things swarm,<BR> +Plying through the driving snow,<BR> +Singing in the storm.<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="footnote"> +[1] From "Songs and Games for Little Ones," by permission of Oliver +Ditson Company, owners of the copyright. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap06"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +ALL ABOUT THE CHICKADEE +</H3> + + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +SUGGESTIONS FOR FIELD LESSONS. +</H3> + +<P> +Does not go south in winter. +</P> + +<P> +Song—two or three clear long whistles and the chirping of his own +name, "chickadee." +</P> + +<P> +A gay, curious little bird. +</P> + +<P> +Black head and throat—sides of head and neck white—breast grayish +buff—wings and tail darker shade edged with white—larger feathers of +shoulders white. +</P> + +<P> +Food—seeds and dormant insects or larval eggs.—Valuable as an insect +destroyer. +</P> + +<P> +Builds in hollow places—usually deserted woodpeckers' or squirrels' +nests—sometimes hollows place for itself. +</P> + +<P> +Six white eggs speckled with red—young birds, male and female much +alike in colouring. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap07"></A> +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +ROBIN REDBREAST +</H2> + + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +MERRY ROBIN REDBREAST +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"Robin, robin redbreast,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Singing on the bough,</SPAN><BR> +Come and get your breakfast,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">We will feed you now.</SPAN><BR> +Robin likes the golden grain,<BR> +Nods his head and sings again:<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">'Chirping, chirping cheerily,</SPAN><BR> +Here I come so merrily,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Thank you, children dear!'"</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +Thus sang Phyllis one morning during the second week in March. +</P> + +<P> +In the topmost bough of the old apple-tree sat Robin Redbreast, looking +altogether doubtful as to whether he liked the little girl's song. +</P> + +<P> +But when he saw the grains of wheat which the child was scattering on +the ground for his breakfast, he thought better of his doubt. +</P> + +<P> +He hopped lower on the branches. He turned his little head on one side +and looked at Phyllis in a very friendly fashion. +</P> + +<P> +"Come on down!" Phyllis begged. "I am so glad that you have returned. +I am so glad that you came to this very apple-tree and sang so strong +and loud and clear!" +</P> + +<P> +"Chirp! Chirp!" and the robin hopped again nearer. +</P> + +<P> +"You see," Phyllis went on, in her coaxing little voice, "my brother +Jack, being a boy, said he would be the one to see the first robin this +year. +</P> + +<P> +"But I made up my mind that if watchful eyes and careful ears could +help a little girl, I would get ahead of Jack. +</P> + +<P> +"Sure enough, the first thing I heard this morning was your sweet song. +When did you arrive? Aren't you rather early?" +</P> + +<P> +By this time the robin was on the ground, pecking away at the grain. +As he ate his breakfast he told his story. +</P> + +<A NAME="img-033"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +[Illustration: "By this time the robin was on the ground" <BR> +(missing from book)] +</H3> + +<P> +"I have been south all winter long," he said. "It is very lovely in +the southland. Food is plenty, the days are long, and the sunshine is +golden, bright, and warm. +</P> + +<P> +"But as soon as the spring days came I grew restless. I knew the snow +was beginning to melt and the grass to grow green in my old home +country. I wanted to start north at once. +</P> + +<P> +"I spoke to my little mate about it, and found her to be as homesick as +I. So we flew north a little earlier than usual this year, and arrived +ahead of the others. We are now quite anxious to get to housekeeping, +and are already looking for a suitable place for a nest." +</P> + +<P> +"If you will build near us," said Phyllis, "I will help you care for +your little ones. I will give you all the crumbs that you can eat." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! oh!" chirped the robin; "you are very kind, Phyllis, but I hardly +think you would know how to feed bird babies. +</P> + +<P> +"You see our babies are so fond of bugs and worms and all sorts of +insects, that they do not care for crumbs when they can have nice fat +worms. +</P> + +<P> +"We sometimes feed berries and cherries to our babies. We older birds +often eat fruit, but really we like worms and bugs better." +</P> + +<P> +"The robins ate all the cherries from the top of our cherry-tree last +year," said Phyllis. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, we did eat some of your cherries," admitted the robin. "They +were very sweet and juicy. +</P> + +<P> +"There are people who say that we robins are a nuisance, and that we +destroy so much fruit that they wish we would never come near them. +The fact is, we do more good than harm to your orchards and berry +patches. Just think how many insects we destroy! If it were not for +us I think much more fruit would be destroyed by insects. And worms +and caterpillars would be crawling everywhere. +</P> + +<P> +"A robin is a very greedy fellow. He eats nearly all the time. I +could not begin to tell you how many insects I have eaten during my +life. +</P> + +<P> +"There are cutworms, too, which live underground. During the night +they come out for food. We robins are early risers, and often catch +the slow worms before they can get back to their underground homes." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah," laughed Phyllis, "that must be the reason that we say that the +early bird catches the worm." +</P> + +<P> +"When our babies come," said the robin, "we are very busy, indeed. +Those young mouths seem always to be open, begging for more food. +</P> + +<P> +"My mother says that when I was a baby robin she was kept busy all day +long. +</P> + +<P> +"There were four baby birds in the nest. I myself ate about seventy +worms in a day. My brother and sisters had as good appetites as I." +</P> + +<P> +"Will you build here in the apple-tree?" asked Phyllis. "I should so +like to watch you. Besides, there is a garden just beneath with +millions of bugs and insects there." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, yes," replied the robin. "We shall surely build there. You will +find that robins like to build near your home. We have a very friendly +feeling towards people. That is the reason that we hop about your lawn +so much and that we waken you by singing near your window in the early +morning." +</P> + +<P> +"I have heard that robins are not very good nest-builders," said +Phyllis. "I was told that a great number of robins' nests were blown +down by every hard storm." +</P> + +<P> +"More are destroyed than I like to think about," said the robin. "But +my father and mother raised three families of birds in their nest last +season. +</P> + +<P> +"Early in the spring they were very busy about their nest-building. +First they brought sticks, straw, weeds, and roots. With these they +laid the foundation in what seemed a very careless fashion, among the +boughs. +</P> + +<P> +"Then here on this foundation they wove the round nest of straws and +weeds. They plastered it with mud. They lined it with soft grasses +and moss. +</P> + +<P> +"In this nest my mother laid four beautiful greenish-blue eggs. From +the first egg that cracked open I crept out. From the three other eggs +came my brother and sisters. +</P> + +<P> +"We were not handsome babies. I don't believe bird babies ever are +beautiful at first. We had no feathers, and our mouths were so big and +yellow. +</P> + +<P> +"We were always hungry, for we were growing very fast. Our mouths flew +open at every little noise. We thought every sound was the flutter of +our parents' wings. They always brought such fine food for us." +</P> + +<P> +The robin pecked away at his breakfast for some time before he spoke +again. Then he again took up the story of his life. +</P> + +<P> +"How well I remember being taught to fly," he said. "How our mother +coaxed us to try our wings. How timid and feeble we were One of my +sisters fell to the ground and a great gray cat caught her. +</P> + +<P> +"Our wings were very weak then and our feathers were still short. I +then had no beautiful red breast. It was just a rusty looking white +spotted with black. +</P> + +<P> +"My mother's breast was not so red as my father's. She was of a paler +colour and she sang much less than he. She was a very happy little +mother, however, and she chirped very sweetly to her babies. +</P> + +<P> +"After we flew from the nest, and were able to look out for ourselves, +my mother laid four more greenish-blue eggs in the same nest. By and +bye four more young robins were chirping about in the garden. +</P> + +<P> +"Quite late in the season my parents were again nesting. But it was +rather unfortunate that they did so. A great storm came up and a +branch broke from the tree and destroyed the four blue eggs. +</P> + +<P> +"It was shortly after this mishap that the robins flew south for the +winter. +</P> + +<P> +"My brother, who was always a brave, cheery fellow, thought he would +rather stay here. I wonder how he fared. I have not yet seen him." +</P> + +<P> +"I have not seen him lately, but he was here during the winter," said +Phyllis. "I dare say you will find him soon." +</P> + +<P> +"Well," said the robin, picking up the last grain of wheat, "I thank +you, Phyllis, for this fine breakfast. +</P> + +<P> +"I will only say 'good morning.' I think you will see me again. +Perhaps I will show you where we build our nest." +</P> + +<P> +"I am grateful to you," replied Phyllis. "You see the cherry-tree +grows beside Jack's window. You might have sung your morning song +there." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap08"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE ROBIN'S RED BREAST[1] +</H3> + + +<P> +It was very cold in the north country. The ice was thick and the snow +was deep. +</P> + +<P> +The seal and the white bear were happy. They liked the ice, the snow, +and the cutting north wind, for their fur was thick and warm. +</P> + +<P> +One night the great white bear climbed to the top of an immense +iceberg. He looked far across the country. The fields of snow and the +beautiful northern lights made the night almost as light as day. +</P> + +<P> +The white bear saw no living thing save a few fur-clad animals and a +little gray robin chirping cheerily as it picked away at an old bone. +</P> + +<P> +Again the white bear looked down. Almost at the foot of the iceberg +crouched a hunter and his little son. Between the two a tiny fire was +blazing. +</P> + +<P> +When the white bear saw the hunter and the boy guarding the fire he +growled terribly. He leaped across from one iceberg to another. He +went into his icy cave still growling. +</P> + +<P> +"It is the only fire in the whole north country," growled the white +bear to himself. "If I could only put out that fire the land of ice +and snow would be mine. +</P> + +<P> +"Neither the hunter nor the hunter's son could live, without fire. I +will watch my chance. Perhaps some day I shall be so lucky as to put +the fire out." +</P> + +<P> +Now the Eskimo night is weeks long. All through the long night the +hunter kept the fire. All through the long night the white bear +crouched near and growled deeply. +</P> + +<P> +At length the hunter fell ill. The brave little boy kept the fire +burning. He also cared for his sick father. +</P> + +<P> +The white bear crept closer now, and growled more loudly. +</P> + +<P> +He longed to jump on the fire with his wet feet and tramp it out. But +he dared not. The boy's bright eyes watched faithfully. The hunter's +arrows were deadly, and the boy's aim was true. +</P> + +<P> +But by and bye the boy could endure the long watch no longer. His head +drooped. His eyes closed. He slept. +</P> + +<P> +The white bear's growl sounded like a hideous laugh. The little gray +robin twittered loudly in warning. But the poor tired little fellow +heard neither the white bear's growl nor the gray robin's twitter. +</P> + +<P> +Then the white bear ran swiftly to the fire. He tramped upon it with +his cold wet feet. He rolled upon it with his cold wet fur. The +cheerful blaze died out. +</P> + +<P> +When he arose the white bear saw only a little pile of gray ashes. He +laughed so loudly that the boy awoke and snatched up his bow and arrows. +</P> + +<P> +But the white bear ran away to his cave, still growling laughingly. He +knew that no human being could live in that cruelly cold north country +without fire. +</P> + +<P> +Now when the white bear was gone, the little gray robin hopped near. +Her chirp was quite sad. She, too, saw nothing but a little heap of +ashes as gray as her own feathers. +</P> + +<P> +She hopped nearer. She scratched among the ashes with her cold little +claws. She looked eagerly at each cinder with her sharp little eyes. +She found—a tiny live coal. +</P> + +<P> +It was only the tiniest spark! The least flake of the fast-falling +snow would put it out! +</P> + +<P> +The little gray robin hovered over it that the cold wind might not +reach the spark. She fanned it softly with her wings for a long, long +time. +</P> + +<P> +The gray robin hovered so close that the coal touched her gray breast. +As she fanned it glowed larger and redder. Her breast was scorched +quite red, as the coal grew. +</P> + +<P> +But the robin did not leave until a fine red flame blazed up. +</P> + +<P> +Then the robin with her poor scorched red breast flew away. She flew +wearily, for she was very tired. Now and again she touched the ground. +</P> + +<P> +And wherever the robin's red breast touched the earth a fire was +kindled. Soon the whole north country was blazing with tiny fires over +which the Eskimos might cook their food and dry their clothes. +</P> + +<P> +The white bear crept far, far back into his cave. He growled fiercely. +He knew now that he could never have the north country to himself. +</P> + +<BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="footnote"> +[1] Adapted from Flora J. Cook's "Nature Myths," by permission of A. +Flanigan, Chicago. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap09"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +WHICH WAS THE WISER?[1] +</H3> + + +<P> +One morning in the early spring a raven was sitting on one of the +branches of an old oak. He felt very ugly and cross, and could only +say, "Croak! Croak!" +</P> + +<P> +Soon a little robin, who was looking for a place to build her nest, +came, with a merry song, into the same tree. "Good morning to you," +she said to the raven. +</P> + +<P> +But the raven made no answer; he only looked at the clouds and croaked +something about the cold wind. "I said good morning to you," said the +robin, hopping from branch to branch. +</P> + +<P> +"You seem very merry this morning about nothing," croaked the raven. +</P> + +<P> +"Why should I not be merry?" asked the robin. "Spring has come, and +everybody should be glad and happy." +</P> + +<P> +"I am not happy," said the raven. "Don't you see those black clouds +above us? It is going to snow." +</P> + +<P> +"Very well," answered the robin, "I shall keep on singing till it +comes, at any rate. A merry song will not make it any colder." +</P> + +<P> +"You are very silly," croaked the raven. +</P> + +<P> +The robin flew to another tree and kept on singing; but the raven sat +still and made himself very unhappy. +</P> + +<P> +"The wind is so cold," he said. "It always blows the wrong way for me." +</P> + +<P> +Very soon the sun came out warm and bright, and the clouds went away. +But the raven was as sad as ever. +</P> + +<P> +The grass began to spring up in the meadows. Green leaves and flowers +were seen in the woods. Birds and bees flew here and there in the glad +sunshine. The raven sat alone on the branch of the old oak. +</P> + +<P> +"It is always too warm or too cold," said he. "To be sure it is quite +pleasant just now; but I know that the sun will soon shine hot enough +to burn one up. Then to-morrow it will be colder than ever before. I +do not see how any one can be so silly as to sing at such a time as +this." +</P> + +<P> +Just then the robin came back to the tree, carrying a straw in her +mouth. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, my friend," asked she, "where is your snow?" +</P> + +<P> +"Don't say anything," croaked the raven. "It will snow all the harder +for this sunshine." +</P> + +<P> +"And snow or shine," said the robin, "you will keep on croaking. For +my part, I shall look on the bright side of everything, and have a song +for every day in the year." +</P> + +<P> +Which was the wiser, the raven or the robin? +</P> + +<BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="footnote"> +[1] Permission of American Book Company. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap10"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +ALL ABOUT THE ROBIN +</H3> + + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +SUGGESTIONS FOR FIELD LESSONS +</H3> + +<P> +One of the first birds to return in the spring—migrates north early in +March—sometimes remains during winter—stays north as late as October +or November. +</P> + +<P> +Domestic—generally preferring to live near the home of man. +</P> + +<P> +Song—though short and always the same is in tone wonderfully +expressive of happiness, love, anger, or fear, as the case may be. +</P> + +<P> +Black head—wings and tail brown—touches of white on throat—entire +breast a rusty red.—Female duller and paler in colouring, growing +almost as bright as the male in the autumn. +</P> + +<P> +Food—principally insects and worms—does not disdain fruit, berries, +cherries, etc., but prefers insect food—a ravenous eater. +</P> + +<P> +Nest—outer layer composed of sticks, coarse grasses, etc., seemingly +rather carelessly arranged—on this the rather large round nest is +woven with grasses—plastered with mud—lined with softer grasses. +</P> + +<P> +Eggs—greenish blue—four in number—young have black spots on +breast—generally two broods reared in a season—sometimes three. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap11"></A> +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +THE SWALLOW +</H2> + +<A NAME="img-055"></A> +<CENTER> +<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-055.jpg" ALT="The Swallow" BORDER="2" WIDTH="345" HEIGHT="402"> +<H3 CLASS="h3center" STYLE="width: 345px"> +The Swallow +</H3> +</CENTER> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +UNDER THE EAVES +</H3> + +<P> +It was the tenth day of April. Phyllis knew the date because it +chanced to be her birthday. She was just eight years old. +</P> + +<P> +The sun shone very warm and bright, and the buds were growing big and +red on the horse-chestnut-trees. +</P> + +<P> +"I shall go down to the brook to look for pussy-willows this +afternoon," said the little girl. +</P> + +<P> +Phyllis was sitting in the window of the barn loft with the sun shining +full upon her. All was very quiet and the little girl was half asleep. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly, with a flash of blue wings and a funny little twitter, a bird +darted right across her face. Phyllis sat up straight, and, leaning +out of the window, looked up at the eaves. +</P> + +<P> +There she saw the merry twitterer, with several of his companions, who +seemed very busy and very talkative. +</P> + +<P> +They darted here and there, they skimmed through the air so swiftly +that Phyllis could only catch a gleam of blue. They wheeled and +circled and darted. All the time they twittered, twittered, twittered. +</P> + +<P> +"What are they up to?" said Phyllis, leaning farther out and looking +more closely. +</P> + +<P> +For an instant one of the birds clung to the eaves and seemed to be +pecking away at a bit of mud which was stuck to the eaves. +</P> + +<P> +Phyllis noticed the deeply forked tail of the bird. Its back and wings +and tail were steel blue. Its throat and chest were bright chestnut, +becoming paler near the back of the body. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I know you," laughed Phyllis. "I have no fear of frightening you, +for you are a swallow. +</P> + +<P> +"How does it happen that you are so fearless? You are scarcely more +afraid of us than our chickens. Why do you build so near our homes? +You are even more tame than the robin!" +</P> + +<P> +The swallow twittered in a way which made Phyllis feel that he was +laughing at her. He darted so near that had she been quick enough she +might have caught him. +</P> + +<P> +"We are not afraid of you!" laughed the swallow, darting close again +and then whirling away. +</P> + +<P> +"What a funny bird!" said Phyllis. +</P> + +<P> +In a moment the bird was back with a bit of mud in his mouth. He +plastered it up against the rest of the mud under the eaves. Then he +flew again near Phyllis. +</P> + +<P> +"I suppose there was a time," said the bird, "when all swallows built +their nests on the sides and ledges of caves or cliffs. But that was +hundreds of years ago, before men came and made barns with such +comfortable places for building. +</P> + +<P> +"To be sure there are swallows to this day who prefer the bank of a +brook or the side of a cave for their nesting-place. But we barn +swallows like the eaves best." +</P> + +<P> +"You, too, are an early bird," said Phyllis. "Where did you spend the +winter?" +</P> + +<P> +There was a great twittering among the returning swallows just then and +Phyllis was obliged to wait for a reply. Back came the bird after a +moment. +</P> + +<P> +"We went south last October," he said. "Late in September we gathered +in great flocks in the marshes. +</P> + +<P> +"For days we stayed there waiting for the entire company to gather. At +length on one of the blue October days we flew southward. +</P> + +<P> +"There were hundreds of birds in the flock. We looked like a small +cloud, as we skimmed and darted through the air. As we flew, the flock +was a half mile long. +</P> + +<P> +"We spent the winter in South America. There are delicious insects +there. But for all that we love the north country best. +</P> + +<P> +"By and bye Mother Nature whispered to us. She said that it was +nest-building time in the northland. Such a twittering and fluttering +there was when this news came. +</P> + +<P> +"That very afternoon we started north. Day after day we flew. We met +other great flocks as we travelled, who joined us. +</P> + +<P> +"Day after day we flew northward. We did not stop to eat, but caught +our food on the wing. +</P> + +<P> +"Now we lunched on moths and flies. Again we dined on grasshoppers. +Any insect foolish enough to trust itself in the air at the time we +passed served as food. +</P> + +<P> +"We arrived here only a few days ago. It is not yet very warm, but +here under the eaves on the sunny side of the barn it is quite +comfortable. +</P> + +<P> +"We are so busy with this nest-building and settling for the summer. +You see we swallows do not live alone. There are always flocks of us +together. +</P> + +<P> +"We should be lonely if we lived only in pairs. That is the reason +that we build a whole little village of nests under your eaves." +</P> + +<P> +"You build very queer nests," said Phyllis. "They are neither like the +robin's nor the chickadee's nests." +</P> + +<P> +"No, indeed, no robin or chickadee could build such nests as the +swallow. You see we make the soft mud from the brookside into little +balls and carry it in our bills. With it we mix straws and grasses. +This holds the clay together. When the outer clay wall is finished we +line the nest with soft grasses and feathers." +</P> + +<A NAME="img-061"></A> +<CENTER> +<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-061.jpg" ALT=""'No robin or chickadee could build such nests as the swallow'"" BORDER="2" WIDTH="500" HEIGHT="596"> +<H3 CLASS="h3center" STYLE="width: 500px"> +"'No robin or chickadee could build such nests as the swallow'" +</H3> +</CENTER> + +<P> +"I notice there are a great many chicken feathers in the barnyard. I +shall line my nest with the softest, fluffiest feathers that I can find +there. +</P> + +<P> +"By and bye my little mate will sit in the dear clay nest and over four +or five or possibly six little eggs." +</P> + +<P> +"I shall never be able to see them," sighed Phyllis. "They are up so +high. Tell me about them." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, my eggs are beautiful," said the swallow. "They are white with +just a little rose tint. They are spotted with fine dots of brown and +purple, and are about three-quarters of an inch long. +</P> + +<P> +"We shall probably have three broods of birdlings this summer. What a +happy, happy time we shall have!" +</P> + +<P> +All this time the swallow was darting and wheeling and circling about +Phyllis in a most graceful manner. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you never still?" asked Phyllis, at last. "I do not believe you +even stop to eat." +</P> + +<P> +"I do not," said the swallow, darting after a big blue fly. "I eat on +the fly." And then he burst into a giggling twitter. +</P> + +<P> +"I catch nearly all my food on the wing. No one can complain—as they +do of the robin—of our destroying fruit. +</P> + +<P> +"We do not care for fruit at all. I would rather have a dozen nice fat +flies than all the cherries in the world!" +</P> + +<P> +"Well," laughed Phyllis, "I'd rather have a dozen ripe cherries than +all the flies in the world!" +</P> + +<P> +"Tastes differ," twittered the swallow. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap12"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE SWALLOWS +</H3> + + +<P> +Once upon a time some Eskimo children were playing in the wet clay by +the seashore. They were making tiny toy houses of the clay. These +houses they fastened high on the face of the cliff. +</P> + +<P> +The children chattered and laughed. They ran gaily to and fro in their +happy play. +</P> + +<P> +The people of the village heard their merry voices. Their busy mother +paused with her long bone needle between her fingers. She looked up +and smiled at her little ones. +</P> + +<P> +"How happy my children are to-day!" she said, and she hummed a little +tune to herself. +</P> + +<P> +"They are very wise children!" said a neighbour. "They say so many +wonderful things. Indeed, they seem to know more of some things than +even the wise men of the village!" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, they are quite wonderful," said the mother. "I sometimes listen +to their chatter and watch their nimble little fingers, and I wonder +who taught them all they know." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh," said another woman, "they do not seem so extraordinary to me. In +fact, they look to me like little birds, flitting about in their dark +dresses." +</P> + +<P> +"They do look like birds!" said the mother, gazing at the children. +</P> + +<P> +"I do believe they are birds," said the neighbour. +</P> + +<P> +"But the voices are my children's voices," said the mother, looking +again in wonder. +</P> + +<P> +"And they are still building tiny clay houses on the cliffs!" said the +other woman. +</P> + +<P> +"But those toy clay houses are birds' nests," said the neighbour, "and +those little figures darting back and forth are no longer children. +They have changed to birds!" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," said the mother, peering from under her hand. "Yes, those are +birds building their funny clay nests on the cliffs yonder. +</P> + +<P> +"But the birds have the happy twittering voices of my children. You +were right. They were wonderful children! +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, well, my only wish is that they may remain near us. They will +cheer us and keep us from becoming lonely!" +</P> + +<P> +"Surely that is a reasonable wish—since they are your own little +ones," said the neighbour. "I, too, hope that the little birds will +remain near our village!" +</P> + +<P> +And indeed the mother's wish was granted. Even to this day the little +swallows do not fear man. +</P> + +<P> +In fact, they still choose to build their nests near the camps of the +people. They still fix their tiny toy houses on the faces of the sea +cliffs. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap13"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +ALL ABOUT THE BARN SWALLOW +</H3> + + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +SUGGESTIONS FOR FIELD LESSONS +</H3> + +<P> +Comes north about first or second week in April. Remains until late +September or October—builds and travels in flocks or companies—winters +in South or Central America. +</P> + +<P> +Song—a constant twitter. +</P> + +<P> +Head and upper parts except forehead steel blue—tail feathers marked +with white—forehead and throat clear chestnut colour—chest and lower +body paler chestnut. +</P> + +<P> +Food—chiefly insects caught while on the wing. +</P> + +<P> +Nest—built chiefly of mud—chooses under eaves or cavelike places for +building—mud mixed with grasses and (one authority also asserts) a +sticky saliva from the bird's mouth. +</P> + +<P> +Eggs—white, tinted a delicate rose, and speckled finely with brown and +purple.—Two or three broods in a season. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap14"></A> +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +THE HAWK AND THE RAVEN +</H2> + +<A NAME="img-071"></A> +<CENTER> +<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-071.jpg" ALT="The Hawk" BORDER="2" WIDTH="236" HEIGHT="293"> +<H3 CLASS="h3center" STYLE="width: 236px"> +The Hawk +</H3> +</CENTER> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +FROM THE BARNYARD FENCE +</H3> + +<P> +Had not the old hen been such a watchful mother she would never have +been able to care for such a big, fluffy family. +</P> + +<P> +Had not Phyllis been such a wide-awake little girl, she would have +never heard and seen all that I am about to tell you. +</P> + +<P> +Mother Speckle was scratching patiently in the barnyard. Now and again +she gave a loud call and her ten little ones ran wildly for the bug or +worm which their mother had found for them. +</P> + +<P> +Phyllis was just coming into the barnyard with a cup of meal for Mother +Speckle's family, when a strange cry from the old hen startled her. +</P> + +<P> +Phyllis looked and saw every chick running as fast as its little legs +could carry it to the hovering mother wings. Soon every chicken baby +was hidden from sight and the chicken mother was clucking less loudly. +</P> + +<P> +"What can be the matter?" cried Phyllis, and then looking up she saw a +hawk circling in the air above. +</P> + +<P> +She snatched off her hat and waved it wildly at the hawk. At the same +time she shouted as fiercely as she could. +</P> + +<P> +The hawk soared calmly in the air, rising ever higher and higher. The +mother hen, calling softly to her babies, led the little ones to the +protecting shelter of some low bushes. Then Phyllis sprinkled the meal +and soon the chicken hawk was quite forgotten by Mother Speckle and her +brood. +</P> + +<P> +But Phyllis still watched eagerly for the hawk. She feared that he +would return. But she could now see nothing of him. +</P> + +<P> +On the fence post, not far away, sat a big black raven croaking gravely +to himself. +</P> + +<P> +"You are not a lovely bird either," said the little girl, but the raven +did not hear her. +</P> + +<P> +When she had crept up very close to the post on which the raven sat, +Phyllis again saw the hawk sailing in wide circles nearer and nearer. +</P> + +<P> +"Caw! Caw!" cried the raven, rising in the air, high above the barn. +"I, too, can sail about in circles! Caw! Caw! Caw!" +</P> + +<P> +The hawk said nothing, but quietly settled on the fence post. The +raven still circled in the air, but ever nearer. +</P> + +<P> +The hawk looked up. The raven wagged his head solemnly and uttered his +sad, harsh cry. He shook out his black feathers and sat down again on +the post. +</P> + +<P> +"I am called the bird of ill omen," said the raven. "Some people think +that I bring bad luck. Others think I eat too much of their corn. No +one likes me. No one thinks me beautiful. +</P> + +<P> +"Yet if you will look at my black coat you will see how glossy it is. +My back fairly gleams in the sunlight. Sometimes I catch gleams of +purple and green on my wings. See how soft and loose are the feathers +about my throat. They make a fringe about my neck of which I am +somewhat proud. +</P> + +<P> +"I do not harm people, and I surely should not be blamed for my +appetite. To be sure, I do eat corn and grain. I also eat grubs, +worms, field mice, in fact anything which comes in my way. +</P> + +<P> +"I have a home up in the top of the cedar-tree. My nest is round and +firm. It is woven of sticks and grasses and lined with wool which I +myself pick from the sheep's back. +</P> + +<P> +"We reline the old nest and repair it beautifully every housecleaning +time. +</P> + +<P> +"My babies are good children, but they do not in fact look much like +me. Perhaps you might think them better looking than their parents. +They are black and white. +</P> + +<P> +"Their mother says that the raven babies will outgrow the white +feathers soon. She declares that she and I had once as many white +feathers as our babies. It seems hard to believe, but perhaps she is +right. +</P> + +<P> +"At any rate, they are my children and I do the best I can for them. +To me they are very dear, but I fear they will go through life as +unloved as I! Caw! Caw! Caw!" +</P> + +<P> +The chicken-hawk ruffled his brown feathers carelessly. He drew in his +breath, making a whistling noise which to Phyllis, hiding so quietly +below, sounded quite like escaping steam. +</P> + +<P> +"People do not like me either," said the hawk, shrugging his shoulders. +"But for all that I shall not sit and mourn. +</P> + +<P> +"I know that my feathers are handsome. I know that I am a good husband +and father. I know that I can sail about in the air as gracefully as +any bird in the world. +</P> + +<P> +"I sometimes eat insects, but I wonder, Mr. Raven, at your fondness for +corn and grain. You should try some of these small birds which are +flying about." +</P> + +<P> +"I fear—" began the raven. +</P> + +<P> +"Fear?" cried the hawk, striking out with his strong curved claws. "I +do not know what fear is! Look at my short curved bill! Look at my +sharp claws! Look at my long wings, which can carry me so swiftly and +so far! +</P> + +<P> +"There is scarcely a bird of the air which does not fear me. They skim +out of sight at my approach. +</P> + +<P> +"You should see me pounce upon young ducks. It is great fun. +Yesterday I was soaring above the pond, when I saw a whole family of +young ducks out for their first swim. Without a sound I dropped down, +seized one, and bore it off in my claws. I sat in the tree-top to eat +it. It was very tender, but also very small. I decided to have +another. This time the young ducks saw me. They dived head first into +the water. +</P> + +<P> +"I laughed to myself. I knew that they would soon come up. When in +half a minute one appeared, I was quick enough to catch him. +</P> + +<P> +"Later I carried a small chicken home to my nest in the big oak on the +hill yonder. My nest is a very simple affair,—just a few crooked +sticks. The lining is of leaves and a few pieces of loose bark which +we picked up. +</P> + +<P> +"Come and see me sometime, Mr. Raven. I will show my babies to you. +They are wonderful birdlings with bright yellow eyes and bluish bills. +</P> + +<P> +"Just now I must be off. I see Mrs. Speckle has ventured out from the +bushes again and that little girl with the flapping hat—" +</P> + +<P> +The little girl and the "flapping hat" sprang up from the fence-corner +with such a shout that the chicken-hawk circled away into the air and +did not return that day. +</P> + +<P> +The raven flew away, crying sadly, "Caw! Caw! Caw!" Mother Speckle +went on quietly catching bugs for her downy babies. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap15"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE FIRST HAWK +</H3> + + +<P> +During the short Greenland summer the Eskimos live along the seacoast. +They put up their strange skin huts and hunt and fish and make merry +through the season when the sun shines at midnight. +</P> + +<P> +Now in places along the Greenland coast there are steep high cliffs. +Here the birds which fly farther north in summer make their nests. +</P> + +<P> +Often, as the Eskimo sits by his campfire, he hears the half-angry, +half-sad cry of "Kea! Kea! Kea!" Looking up then, he often sees a +lonely hawk sitting on the highest, most desolate cliff. +</P> + +<P> +The Eskimo father laughs when he hears this cry and sees the lonely +bird on the cliff top. Then the little Eskimo children creep nearer to +their father with certainty that a new story is in store for them. +</P> + +<P> +"Tell us the story of the hawk!" the Eskimo children cry eagerly. +</P> + +<P> +This then is the story which the Eskimo father tells to his little ones +"in their funny furry clothes." +</P> + +<P> +"Long, long ago in a tiny Eskimo village, there lived a strange-looking +old woman. Her neck was so short that she really looked as though she +had no neck at all and as though her head was set upon her shoulders. +</P> + +<P> +"People laughed when they saw the funny-looking old woman. Some were +so unkind as to make fun of her strange appearance. +</P> + +<P> +"This unkindness made the old woman very unhappy. +</P> + +<P> +"By and bye the children of the village went every day to the hut of +the old woman to play. +</P> + +<P> +"They teased and tormented her. If she raised the bearskin curtain at +the doorway and spoke to them they did not heed her. +</P> + +<P> +"'Short neck! Short neck!' the rude children shouted. Then they stood +and laughed at her. +</P> + +<P> +"So it came that the poor old woman grew more and more unhappy. To +escape her tormentors she often climbed to the cliff tops and sat on +the edges of high rocks where it was difficult to follow. +</P> + +<P> +"Here, safe and quiet, she would sit for hours. Sometimes in her +loneliness she raised her arms above her head and cried aloud. +</P> + +<P> +"The people of the tiny Eskimo village often saw the lonely figure on +the cliffs. They noticed that the old woman stayed less and less in +her little snow hut in the village. +</P> + +<P> +"Then one morning an Eskimo child, looking up, thought she saw the old +woman sitting as usual on the rocks. But the child's brother said that +he saw only a strange bird with a very short neck. +</P> + +<P> +"At that moment the bird raised its wings and flapped them above its +head. +</P> + +<P> +"'Kea! Kea! Kea!' cried the strange new bird. 'Kea! Kea! Kea! who +was it called me short neck?' +</P> + +<P> +"'Ah,' said the children's father, looking up from his fishing-nets, 'I +think you both were right.'" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap16"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +ORIGIN OF THE RAVEN AND THE MACAW +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +(ZUNI CREATION MYTH) +</H3> + +<P> +Long, long ago there were but few Indians on the earth. The world was +not as it is now. The earth people did not understand things as they +now understand them. +</P> + +<P> +It therefore happened that a beautiful Indian prince came to live with +the earth people. +</P> + +<P> +In his hand he carried a plume stick. It was a magic wand and was +covered with feathers of beautiful colours. +</P> + +<P> +There were yellow feathers. There were red feathers. There were +blue-green feathers. There were black and white and gray feathers. +</P> + +<P> +Fastened to this magic wand were also many strange shells and charms +which the earth children did not understand and which the strange +prince did not explain fully. +</P> + +<P> +"What is this strange plume stick?" asked the earth children. +</P> + +<P> +"It is the magic wand which tests the hearts of earth children," was +the reply. +</P> + +<P> +The earth children wondered, but they did not understand. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, but show us what you mean!" they cried, eagerly. +</P> + +<P> +"Look!" replied the strange prince. +</P> + +<P> +Then amid the plumes and charms of the magic wand there appeared four +round things. +</P> + +<P> +"They are eggs!" cried the earth children. "Two are blue like the sky. +Two are red-brown like the dust of our own pleasant earth!" +</P> + +<P> +Then the earth children asked many questions which the strange prince +tried patiently to explain. +</P> + +<P> +"Now," said the strange prince, "choose whichever eggs you will. By +and bye they will hatch. From them will come birds such as you never +before have seen. From each pair of eggs will come a pair of birds." +</P> + +<P> +"You who choose the blue eggs shall follow the birds which come from +the blue shells. You and your children and your children's children +shall dwell in the land in which these birds nest. +</P> + +<P> +"You who choose the red-brown eggs shall follow the birds which come +from the red-brown shells. You and your children and your children's +children shall dwell in the land in which these birds nest!" +</P> + +<P> +"But which shall we choose?" cried the eager earth children. +</P> + +<P> +"Nay," said the strange prince, "that I may not tell. But this much +you may know: +</P> + +<P> +"From one pair of eggs shall come forth beautiful birds. Their +feathers shall be coloured, like the leaves and fruits of summer. They +shall nest in the land of everlasting summer-time and plenty. +</P> + +<P> +"They who choose those eggs will follow these birds to the beautiful +country of summer-time. The fruits will ripen daily and fall into the +hands of the lucky earth children. Their food will come to them +without labour and they shall know neither hunger nor cold." +</P> + +<P> +"And what will happen if we choose the other pair of eggs?" +</P> + +<P> +The strange prince shook his head half sadly and smiled on the earth +children. +</P> + +<P> +"From the other pair of eggs," he said, "shall come forth birds with +black feathers, piebald with white. This pair will nest in a land +where you may gain food by labour only. +</P> + +<P> +"Those who follow this pair of birds shall struggle summer and winter. +By long days of toil they shall provide food. By long nights of +watchfulness they shall keep warmth within their homes." +</P> + +<P> +Then the strange prince ceased speaking. The earth children looked at +each other and forgot to speak. Each looked into the eyes of the other +and asked a question. Each wished to follow the birds which would lead +them to the land of everlasting summer-time and idleness and plenty. +</P> + +<P> +"Which eggs do you choose?" asked the strange prince. +</P> + +<P> +"The blue—the blue!" cried the earth children. Then those who were +strongest and quickest pushed forward. +</P> + +<P> +They fought for the blue eggs, and getting them hurried away with +gladness. +</P> + +<P> +They buried the blue eggs in the soft loam on the sunny side of the +cliff. They sat down to watch when the young birds should hatch. +</P> + +<P> +Now there remained those weaker earth children who had been pushed +aside. For them there was no choice. The strange prince gave into +their hand the red-brown eggs. +</P> + +<P> +The red-brown eggs were placed amid the soft green grasses by the +riverside. The earth children into whose care they were given sat also +by the riverside and waited. +</P> + +<P> +Sometimes, as they waited for the hatching of the red-brown eggs, they +looked up to the place in the cliff where the stronger ones watched the +beautiful blue eggs. +</P> + +<P> +Then the weaker ones sighed and turned to the ugly red-brown eggs amid +the grasses. +</P> + +<P> +By and bye, as those on the cliff waited, they heard faint tappings +inside the blue shells. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah," they said, "the birds will come soon now. They will lead us to +the land of summer-time." +</P> + +<P> +When at length the shells burst and the young birds came out, they +looked much as other birds look. They had large mouths and panting +sides and tiny featherless bodies. Soon the pin-feathers appeared. +</P> + +<P> +"See!" cried the watchers, "now the beautiful plumage is starting!" +</P> + +<P> +And those by the riverside, hearing the cry, looked up, and looking up +they sighed. The red-brown eggs also were cracking open and the young +birds coming out of the shells. Soon the earth children must follow +their bird leaders. They fed and tended the young birds for still a +few days. +</P> + +<P> +Then one morning there were sighs and discontent on the cliff. For the +birds which came from the blue shells were feathered and ready for +flight. Their colours were black and white! So also is all the bare +earth and the new-fallen snow! +</P> + +<P> +It was a pair of ravens, which the stronger earth children followed to +the country where winter follows summer and where men work for food. +As the earth children laboured, the ravens taunted them with hoarse, +laughing cries. +</P> + +<P> +Now those other earth children who watched the red-brown eggs stood up +by the riverside and smiled. +</P> + +<P> +From the red-brown eggs had come birds of gorgeous plumage. On the +breath of a sweet-scented breeze they were wafted far to southward—to +the summer land. And those earth children who followed the beautiful +birds still live easily in the land of everlasting summer-time. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap17"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +ALL ABOUT THE CHICKEN-HAWK +</H3> + + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +SUGGESTIONS FOR FIELD LESSONS +</H3> + +<P> +Voice—sharp, harsh, discordant cries—queer "whistling" noises. +</P> + +<P> +Upper parts brownish black mixed with white—throat and under tail +coverts white—other under parts having darker markings. +</P> + +<P> +Bill—short, curved, and very sharp. +</P> + +<P> +Claws—strong, curved, and very sharp,—middle toe longest. +</P> + +<P> +Wings—long and pointed—made for rapid flight and long journeys. +</P> + +<P> +Female larger than male. +</P> + +<P> +Food—other smaller birds of the air—small ducks and +chickens—occasionally larger insects, snakes, etc. +</P> + +<P> +Nest in the fork of a tree—made of crooked sticks and lined with +leaves, bark, etc. +</P> + +<P> +Eggs—two to four in number, bluish white, thickly speckled with brown. +</P> + +<P> +Iris in young bird's eyes yellow—turning to reddish brown with +maturity. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap18"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +ALL ABOUT THE RAVEN +</H3> + + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +SUGGESTIONS FOR FIELD LESSONS +</H3> + +<P> +Three times the size of robin. +</P> + +<P> +Does not migrate, but is usually resident in the place where it can +best provide for itself and family. +</P> + +<P> +Is glossy black in colour, with gleams of purple and green +above—duller underneath. +</P> + +<P> +Flies in wide circles high above the tree-tops, and utters a weird, +uncanny cry, which has given it the name of being a bird of ill omen, +and to many people the cry of the raven is deemed a sign of approaching +evil. +</P> + +<P> +Nest very compactly built of sticks and grasses and lined with wool +from sheep's back. Nest is used year after year, being often relined +and made habitable. +</P> + +<P> +Young when first hatched are black and white—they however change to +entire black in a very short time. +</P> + +<P> +Food of the raven is varied, apparently anything edible which comes in +his way—grain, seeds, grubs, worms, field-mice, fruit, are found on +his menu. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap19"></A> +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +THE KINGFISHER +<BR> +OR HALCYON BIRD +</H2> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +WITH THE WATER WATCHMAN +</H3> + +<P> +"Please, Jack," begged Phyllis. +</P> + +<P> +"Girls always talk," replied Jack. +</P> + +<P> +"I will not say a word to you—indeed I will not." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, if you spoil my fishing—" began Jack. +</P> + +<P> +"And I'll pick thimbleberries for our lunch," said Phyllis, eagerly. +</P> + +<P> +So it happened that a small girl in a great sunbonnet followed a small +boy with a still larger straw hat and a fishing-pole and line, out of +the back gate and down the lane. +</P> + +<P> +True to her promise, Phyllis said nothing, but trudged along behind +Jack with wide open, watchful brown eyes. +</P> + +<P> +By and bye the children came to a pond of shining, clear water. How +still everything seemed, how brightly the sun shone! +</P> + +<P> +"Now if you talk you'll scare the fish," said Jack, with an air of +great importance. +</P> + +<P> +"I will not talk," Phyllis whispered back, shutting her lips very +tightly and sitting down beside her brother with a little sigh. +</P> + +<P> +Jack threw his line—Phyllis watched with awe. They sat for a moment +waiting for a "bite." +</P> + +<P> +Then Jack jerked the line up sharply, not so much because he thought he +had caught something, as because he hoped he would catch something. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't believe there are any fish here," he grumbled at last. +</P> + +<P> +But Phyllis's bright eyes had caught sight of something and she forgot +all about the fishing and her resolve not to speak. +</P> + +<P> +"Look!" she cried, pointing to a fallen tree-trunk which hung over the +water. +</P> + +<P> +On a branch sat a bird. He was considerably larger than a robin. +</P> + +<A NAME="img-099"></A> +<CENTER> +<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-099.jpg" ALT=""On a branch sat a bird. He was considerably larger than a robin"" BORDER="2" WIDTH="487" HEIGHT="622"> +<H3 CLASS="h3center" STYLE="width: 487px"> +"On a branch sat a bird. He was considerably larger than a robin" +</H3> +</CENTER> + +<P> +On the top of his head was a tall crest, which reached to the nape of +his neck. +</P> + +<P> +His back and the entire upper part of his body was blue. His wings and +short tail bore spots and bars of white. +</P> + +<P> +The lower part of his body was white and across his breast ran two +bands of blue. +</P> + +<P> +"His bill is longer than his head!" laughed Phyllis. "What a funny big +head and what funny little feet! Who is he, Jackie?" +</P> + +<P> +"A kingfisher!" Jack replied. +</P> + +<P> +"What is he doing?" asked Phyllis. +</P> + +<P> +"Fishing," said Jack, shortly. +</P> + +<P> +In a moment Jack spoke again. +</P> + +<P> +"There must be fish here if Mr. Kingfisher is on the lookout. He is a +famous old fisherman. He could not live without fish to eat. Did you +notice the white spot above each eye?" +</P> + +<P> +Encouraged by the sight of the other fisherman, Jack again cast his +line and waited for a bite. +</P> + +<P> +Phyllis watched the bird. Suddenly it seemed to drop from the branch. +It dived into the water. +</P> + +<P> +There was a great flutter and splash—a struggle. Then the bird in the +blue and white uniform perched again on the old branch. +</P> + +<P> +The children watched eagerly. +</P> + +<P> +In the bird's strong bill was a scaly, glittering fish. It wriggled +and flopped helplessly, but could not escape. +</P> + +<P> +The bird held the fish firmly in its strong grasp, raised his head and +struck the fish three or four sharp knocks against the branch. Then +the fish wriggled no longer. +</P> + +<P> +"He can never swallow that big fellow!" cried Jack, forgetting his own +fishing. "I have seen kingfishers swallow minnows alive and whole, but +that fish is too large for him to manage!" +</P> + +<P> +The bird, however, seemed to think that he could "manage" it. He +started to swallow the fish. When it was half-way down his throat it +stuck. +</P> + +<P> +With much sputtering and gagging the bird brought the fish up again. +But he must have his dinner, and not in the least discouraged, tried +again. +</P> + +<P> +He gagged and writhed. The scales and fins stuck in his throat. Up +came the fish again. +</P> + +<P> +Four—five times he struggled to swallow the fish. Five times he +failed to succeed. Five times the fish-scales glittered again in the +sunlight. Such strange wrigglings and twistings the bird made. +</P> + +<P> +"The poor fellow is having an unhappy time with his lunch," laughed the +children. +</P> + +<P> +At the sixth effort the fish was safely landed in the bird's stomach. +</P> + +<P> +With a flash of blue wings he circled through the air. He gave a noisy +rattling cry as he alighted on a branch nearer to the children. +</P> + +<P> +Again the bird watched the water intently. Again he dived like a +flash. Again he bore a fish to the surface and killed it by striking +it against the tree. +</P> + +<P> +But this time the kingfisher did not swallow the fish. He rose with it +in his bill and flew gracefully away. +</P> + +<P> +The children watched for some time, but the strange blue bird did not +return. Then Jack turned again to his fishing. +</P> + +<P> +"I thought you were to furnish the thimbleberries for lunch," he said. +</P> + +<P> +"So I shall," Phyllis replied, snatching up her basket and starting off +in the direction of some bushes which she could see. +</P> + +<P> +So Jack was left to his fishing and Phyllis went berrying. +</P> + +<P> +Sure enough the bushes proved to be loaded with beautiful ripe berries. +Soon the little fingers were stained quite purple and the little basket +was half filled with berries. +</P> + +<P> +As she started to return to her brother, Phyllis passed along the foot +of a high bank. She was singing softly to herself when she heard the +rattling cry of the kingfisher quite near. +</P> + +<P> +He gracefully swung into sight on wide-spread wings. He bore another +fish in his strong bill. +</P> + +<P> +When he saw Phyllis he stopped short and held himself perfectly still +in the air while he looked at her. +</P> + +<P> +At length, deciding that she was harmless, he circled past the little +girl and entered a small hole on the face of the bank. +</P> + +<P> +"Why!" said Phyllis. "I wonder why he has gone in there. I shall wait +for him to return." +</P> + +<P> +So Phyllis waited until the bird came out. Then she held out her +basket of berries. +</P> + +<P> +"Will you have some of my berries?" she said. "I'm sure that your +throat must be sore from the scratching of those fish-scales. You had +to try so many times before you got it down. Tell me, did this last +fish also stick in your throat?" +</P> + +<P> +The kingfisher "chuckled" deep down in his throat. +</P> + +<P> +"I do not eat berries," he said. "I usually eat fish. I sometimes eat +large insects or shrimps, but I love to fish." +</P> + +<P> +"So does my brother," said Phyllis, politely, glancing at Jack sitting +motionless on a rock in the sunshine. +</P> + +<P> +"Why did you go into that hole to eat?" +</P> + +<P> +The kingfisher chuckled again. +</P> + +<P> +"That is my nest," he said. "My wife is in there. I took the fish to +her. She can fish quite as well as I, but our eggs are just hatching +and she dare not leave them." +</P> + +<P> +"That a bird's nest?" cried Phyllis. "Who made it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Mrs. Kingfisher and I did," was the reply. "We found this fine steep +bank when we came from the south in March. +</P> + +<P> +"I began the nest myself. I held myself still in the air before the +bank just as I did when I first noticed you. Then I drove my beak into +the soft bank with quick plunges. How the clay rattled and rolled and +splashed into the water below! +</P> + +<P> +"It was but a very short time before I had a foothold on the bank. +Mrs. Kingfisher and I worked very quickly. Soon we dug ourselves out +of sight." +</P> + +<P> +"But how do you dig—" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, just look at my bill, Phyllis. With it I loosen the earth. With +my feet I scratch the dirt out in a perfect shower behind me. Our +tunnel is so narrow that we could not turn around in it." +</P> + +<P> +"How deep is it?" asked the little girl, pushing back her big hat and +peering in. +</P> + +<P> +The kingfisher did not seem to hear her. He just went on with his +story. +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps a little less than two feet from the outside we made a turn to +the right. After that we were obliged to bring the earth out in our +beaks. +</P> + +<P> +"Two could not work at once. While I worked at the tunnel Mrs. +Kingfisher fished. While she worked, I fished. At last the tunnel was +eight feet long. +</P> + +<P> +"'That is a very safe distance,' said Mrs. Kingfisher to me. 'Let us +dig no more, but make our nest here at the end of the tunnel.' +</P> + +<P> +"We built a wonderful nest," the bird went on, "a fine prickly nest for +our little ones. We did not line it with feathers and moss. We +carefully arranged a pile of fish-bones and scales at the farthest end +of the tunnel. On these bones and scales my wife laid six white eggs. +Already four little baby kingfishers have pecked their way out of the +white shells. The others will be out soon. +</P> + +<P> +"I must be off about my fishing. Mrs. Kingfisher and I will both be +very busy now catching minnows for those blue babies of ours." +</P> + +<P> +With another chuckle and rattle the kingfisher flew away to his fishing +station over the pond. +</P> + +<P> +Phyllis picked up her basket of berries and returned to the spot where +Jack still sat patiently holding his pole. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Jack—" Phyllis began. +</P> + +<P> +"Sh-h-h-h!" whispered Jack. "You promised not to talk. You'll scare +the fish away. Girls always talk." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm sorry," said Phyllis. "How many have you now?" +</P> + +<P> +"None—but I've had a nibble several times. I think they'd bite better +if the sun would go under a cloud." +</P> + +<P> +"Let's eat our lunch now," begged Phyllis. "Perhaps there'll be some +clouds by the time we finish." +</P> + +<P> +As they ate Phyllis told her brother about the kingfisher's nest and +babies. When they finished the sky was as blue as ever. +</P> + +<P> +"These are halcyon days," said Jack, looking very wise. +</P> + +<P> +"Wh-a-a-t—?" said Phyllis, wholly puzzled and half frightened at the +new word. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, you see father told me about them the other day when we were +fishing in this same place. +</P> + +<P> +"It seems that long ago when people were not very wise, they believed +all sorts of queer things. They told strange stories about the things +which they did not understand. +</P> + +<P> +"In those days kingfishers were called halcyons. Some said these birds +made nests which floated on the sea. +</P> + +<P> +"As long as these eggs or birdlings were in the nest, the people said, +the sea would remain smooth and the weather fair. +</P> + +<P> +"Ever since then, when we hear any one speak of 'halcyon days,' we know +that they mean pleasant happy days." +</P> + +<P> +"Then," laughed Phyllis, "this has been one of the 'halcyon days' even +though you failed to catch any fish." +</P> + +<P> +Then two tired little people trudged home through the river reeds and +down the lane. +</P> + +<P> +On their way the blue kingfisher flashed by, chuckling harshly deep +down in his throat. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap20"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE HALCYON BIRDS +</H3> + + +<P> +That evening Phyllis opened a new book and on almost the first page she +saw something about the halcyon birds. +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps it is Jack's story," she said. Then she curled herself up on +the soft sofa and this is the story she read. +</P> + +<P> +In the beautiful long ago, in the wonderful country of Greece there +lived a king, wise and just and peaceful. His people loved him. +</P> + +<P> +The king lived in a marble palace on the top of a low hill. With him +lived his wife, the lovely Queen Halcyone. +</P> + +<P> +But though the king was wise and just and good, his heart was sad. +There was unrest in the land. Troubles were rife in Greece. +</P> + +<P> +At length one day the king came to the room where Queen Halcyone sat +with her maids. They were spinning carefully and happily together. +</P> + +<P> +"My Halcyone—my queen," said the king, "as you know, I am greatly +troubled and disturbed. I do not know what is the best thing for me to +do. I must seek wise advice from the gods." +</P> + +<P> +Queen Halcyone dropped her distaff and looked in fear at the king. +</P> + +<P> +"I must go," said the king to Halcyone, "on a long journey across the +seas. As you know, in the Temple of Apollo there is a wise oracle. To +this oracle must I go in search of counsel." +</P> + +<P> +Then the lovely Queen Halcyone's heart was filled with sorrow. She +feared that harm might come to the king, whom she loved for his +goodness and his kindness. +</P> + +<P> +Halcyone fell on her knees before the king. She begged him to postpone +this terrible journey across the seas. +</P> + +<P> +"Indeed," cried she, "there are cruel dangers, O my king! The journey +is long and wearisome. Remain at home with me!" +</P> + +<P> +The king smiled pityingly upon his lovely queen. He kissed her gently +before he answered. +</P> + +<P> +"It seems to me," he said, sadly, "that there is no other way. I must +go." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, then, I pray, take me also. Let me share the dangers and the +weariness." +</P> + +<P> +"You could not—" the king began. +</P> + +<P> +"In truth it would be easier far than to bear the loneliness and dread +when you are gone. It would be weary waiting for your return!" +</P> + +<P> +Now the king loved Halcyone. He longed to remain at home with her. +But already the boat lay ready for departure—and there was no place +for Halcyone. +</P> + +<P> +Already the oarsmen sat at their benches ready to row away. So the +king bade Halcyone farewell and stepped on board and quickly pushed off. +</P> + +<P> +With bitter tears Halcyone stood on the bank and watched the king's +boat push out from shore. +</P> + +<P> +When it looked but a speck she shaded her eyes with her hand and still +watched. But when in the purple distance the tiny speck could no +longer be seen, Halcyone turned with a sigh to the marble palace and +her maidens. +</P> + +<P> +On and on across the waters the little boat sped. For a time all went +well. At night the stars shone. In the morning the sun arose from the +blue waters and travelled across a cloudless sky. Gentle winds blew, +filling the sails and pushing the little boat quietly on its way. +</P> + +<P> +But one day a change came over the sea. The moaning of the wind was +heard. Dark clouds scurried across the sky. +</P> + +<P> +The waves rose high and broke in white crests of foam. The rain poured +down. The wind crept up and sprang upon the little boat with fury. +</P> + +<P> +For a time the boat rose and fell with the waves. It pitched and +rolled and reeled. Great waves splashed over it, washing the oarsmen +overboard. +</P> + +<P> +The masts were torn away. At last the little boat, buried in the +trough of the wave, sank beneath the water. +</P> + +<P> +The king and all his crew lay buried deep beneath the deep blue sea. +</P> + +<P> +Weeks passed. Months passed. A year went by. +</P> + +<P> +Queen Halcyone wandered restlessly up and down the shore. With weary +eyes she watched the purple distance. But the king did not return. +</P> + +<P> +She prayed to the gods that they would guard and protect the king whom +she loved so dearly. She went to the sacred altars of her country, and +burned incense there. +</P> + +<P> +When the goddess Juno heard the prayers and saw the tears of the lovely +Queen Halcyone, she was sad for her. Juno called to her side the +beautiful rainbow messenger, Iris. +</P> + +<P> +"Iris," said Juno, "this night I wish you to go down on your rainbow +bridge to the god of dreams. +</P> + +<P> +"Ask him to send to Halcyone a dream which shall tell her of the fate +of her husband, the king. It is better that she should know what has +befallen him whom she loved than to wander thus in uncertainty." +</P> + +<P> +So Iris, the beautiful messenger, swept down to the god of dreams—and +that night Halcyone dreamed that the king came to her and told her his +story. He told her how the boat and all therein had long since been +buried under the sea. +</P> + +<P> +"Be brave, my Halcyone," said the shade of the dead king. "Be brave +and patient, and soon perchance, if the gods will, thou shalt come to +me in the land of shades." +</P> + +<P> +When the dream left her, Halcyone sprang from her couch and ran again +to the seashore. She stretched out her arms and called aloud to +Aeolus, the father of the winds. +</P> + +<P> +"O great father Aeolus," she prayed, "give me wings so large and strong +that they will carry me to the spot where the king now lies. +</P> + +<P> +"Hear me, Aeolus! Hear Halcyone, thy child!" +</P> + +<P> +And as she prayed, lo, she rose slowly into the air. The folds of her +blue robe enwrapped her. +</P> + +<P> +Halcyone floated out across the sea. Again and again her breast +touched the white crest of the waves and left its foam on her throat +and on the bosom of her dress. +</P> + +<P> +On and on she sped across the billowy waters. Her wings were firm, +strong, untiring. +</P> + +<P> +At last, floating upon the water she spied the form of the king. With +a hoarse rattling in her throat she called to him. +</P> + +<P> +With her strong wings outspread, Halcyone hung motionless above the +king. Those broken cries came again and again from her throat. +</P> + +<P> +And Juno, looking down from her cloudland home, saw Halcyone kneeling +on the waves beside the dead king. She leaned down from her place in +the heavens and touched the king's forehead. +</P> + +<P> +Lo! there rose from the water two strong-winged birds in dresses of +blue and white. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah," sighed Aeolus, "let us call them the halcyon birds, for the +lovely Halcyone, whose love did not fail her. +</P> + +<P> +"Let these birds live ever beside the waters and rear their young in +peace and quiet. +</P> + +<P> +"Behold, when Halcyone broods over her little ones I will hold my winds +in check. The waters shall be quiet and the sun shall shine merrily. +</P> + +<P> +"And these days of peace and quiet and happiness shall be called +'halcyon days,' for ever." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap21"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +ALL ABOUT THE KINGFISHER +</H3> + + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +SUGGESTIONS FOR FIELD LESSONS +</H3> + +<P> +Comes north in early March—remains until December, often throughout +the year. +</P> + +<P> +Song—harsh, discordant, laughing chuckle or rattle—never musical. +</P> + +<P> +Upper parts blue—wings and tail with white markings—lower parts white +with two blue bands across breast—bluish tinge on sides—a white spot +in front of each eye.—Head large and crested—bill longer than +head—feet small. +</P> + +<P> +Food—principally fish which it obtains by diving and kills by striking +against a tree if large, or swallows alive if small.—This food +supplemented by larger insects, shrimps, etc. +</P> + +<P> +Nest—tunnelled out of bank—six to eight feet deep—at the extreme end +of tunnel is the nest made of fish-bones and scales. +</P> + +<P> +Eggs—pure white—four to six in one brood. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap22"></A> +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +THE RED-HEADED WOODPECKER +</H2> + +<A NAME="img-125"></A> +<CENTER> +<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-125.jpg" ALT="Woodpecker" BORDER="2" WIDTH="432" HEIGHT="298"> +<H3 CLASS="h3center" STYLE="width: 432px"> +Woodpecker +</H3> +</CENTER> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +IN CAP OF RED +</H3> + +<P> +Phyllis sat in her own room, rocking her doll to sleep. The window was +open and the curtain flapped idly in the breeze. +</P> + +<P> +Presently into the room darted a bird. He was beautifully dressed. +His soft gray uniform was spotted and barred with white. +</P> + +<P> +He did not seem in the least alarmed when he found himself in the room +with Phyllis. He perched on the window-ledge and did not even glance +at the little girl. +</P> + +<P> +In a moment he flew to the ledge above her door. With his strong +little bill he began to rap, rap, rap at the wood. +</P> + +<P> +"You act like a woodpecker, but you do not look like one," said Phyllis. +</P> + +<P> +"That shows that you do not know all about woodpeckers," said the gray, +downy bird. "I belong to the family of red-headed woodpeckers." +</P> + +<P> +"You?" cried Phyllis, amazed. "But where is your red cap, and where is +your white vest, and where is your black coat? You are trying to fool +me, my friend." +</P> + +<P> +"My father and mother have crimson heads and necks and throats. They +have white breasts. They have black backs and wings and tails. When +they fly, the broad white bands on the wings are quite plain to be seen. +</P> + +<P> +"My home nest is that in the trunk of the old oak by the gate." +</P> + +<P> +"It is very queer," said Phyllis. "Perhaps some other bird laid an egg +in the woodpeckers' nest by mistake." +</P> + +<P> +The small bird fluttered quite helplessly with laughter. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, no, Phyllis, I see I have to tell you all about it. I am a +woodpecker, surely. But I am quite young yet. It is not a week since +I had my first lesson in flying." +</P> + +<P> +"You fly very well for a young bird," said Phyllis. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, my mother is very wise," said the bird. +</P> + +<P> +"She does not think it well for her babies to get out of the nest until +they have grown quite large. She says that if we wait until our wings +are strong we will not be so apt to fall into danger. +</P> + +<P> +"So I remained inside the nest until I was quite a large, strong bird. +Then my parents called me out and taught me to fly. +</P> + +<P> +"Only yesterday I asked my mother why I did not wear a dress and cap +like her own. +</P> + +<P> +"She said, 'Wait a little longer, my child. When you are quite grown +your cap will be as red as my own. You will look so much like your +father and me that those children down there will be unable to tell us +apart.' +</P> + +<P> +"It is little wonder that you did not know me for a woodpecker in this +simple gray dress. All woodpecker children, however, dress in this +quiet fashion at first. I shall be happy when I get my gorgeous red +cap." +</P> + +<P> +"Well," said Phyllis, "I am very glad you came to see me. I knew there +was a nest in the old oak-tree. I watched your father and mother one +whole morning a few weeks ago. I think they chose the oak because of +those old dead branches. +</P> + +<P> +"I saw your mother brace herself against the tree with her stiff tail. +Then how her wedge-shaped bill rapped and rapped against the wood. For +fully twenty minutes she rapped away at the rotten wood. Then she grew +tired and your father took her place at the tree-trunk. +</P> + +<P> +"Soon they pecked a hole deep enough to hide them from sight, but their +constant rap, rap, rap could still be heard. +</P> + +<P> +"I wondered how deep they made the hole, but it was too high for me to +climb to find out." +</P> + +<P> +"Having just come from the nest I can tell you all about it," replied +the young woodpecker. "My parents dug down into the soft trunk to a +depth of perhaps eighteen inches. At the bottom they hollowed out a +large roomy place for the nest. They did not line it with feathers or +grasses. Instead of a bed of moss was a little sawdust and the smooth +white sides of the oak. +</P> + +<P> +"In this nest my mother laid six pure white eggs. She sat on them and +kept them warm until at last six downy birds came out of the shells. +</P> + +<P> +"We were hungry little things. Both our mother and father were kept +busy filling our greedy, ever-open mouths. +</P> + +<P> +"And whatever they brought was sure to be very nice. Sometimes it was +a cherry or a berry, sometimes a bit of pear or apple. +</P> + +<P> +"But, best of all, were the fat, juicy little grubs which they often +brought. +</P> + +<P> +"I asked my father where he got the grubs. He made fun of me and +called out to my mother in his shrill, lively way. +</P> + +<P> +"She said that that was a thing which every young woodpecker should +find out for himself. +</P> + +<P> +"After that, every time a fat grub was brought to me, I wondered if I +should ever be able to find them when I began to shift for myself. +</P> + +<P> +"At last my wings were strong enough and my parents called me out of +the nest. I very soon found that the fat grubs lived beneath the bark +of my own oak-tree. All I had to do was to strike my bill into the +bark and bear off the prize." +</P> + +<P> +"Were you sorry to leave your safe high nest?" asked Phyllis. +</P> + +<P> +"Indeed it was not so safe," said the young woodpecker. "On the day +that I left the nest a great black snake crept in. He swallowed my +little brothers and sisters. +</P> + +<P> +"My parents were wild with grief. They said that was the thing they +always dreaded, that such things often happened in woodpeckers' nests." +</P> + +<P> +"How sad!" said Phyllis. "I should never have thought of snakes!" +</P> + +<P> +"They are our greatest danger," was the reply. "Squirrels sometimes +come in and steal the nuts and corn we have stored away, but the snake +is the most to be feared." +</P> + +<P> +"So you store away food?" Phyllis asked. "Do you stay here in the +winter, then?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, yes, we often stay all winter. Have you not seen us flying about +among the trees in the winter-time?" +</P> + +<P> +By this time the bird sat on the window-sill. +</P> + +<P> +"Must you go?" asked Phyllis. "Here is a strawberry for you." +</P> + +<P> +"Thanks," said the bird, pecking away at the fruit. "I am just off to +the corn-field. My father showed me this morning how to open the husks +of the green corn to get at the rich, milky kernels inside." +</P> + +<P> +"When you get your red cap, come back," cried Phyllis, and the young +woodpecker's lively cry answered from the corn-field. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap23"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +A LEGEND OF THE NORTHLAND[1] +</H3> + + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Away, away in the Northland,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Where the hours of the day are few,</SPAN><BR> +And the nights are so long in winter<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">They cannot sleep them through;</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Where they harness the swift reindeer<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">To the sledges, when it snows;</SPAN><BR> +And the children look like bears' cubs<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">In their funny, furry clothes;</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +They tell them a curious story—<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">I don't believe 'tis true;</SPAN><BR> +And yet you may learn a lesson<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">If I tell the tale to you.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Once, when the good Saint Peter<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Lived in the world below,</SPAN><BR> +And walked about it, preaching,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Just as he did, you know,</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +He came to the door of a cottage,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">In travelling round the earth,</SPAN><BR> +Where a little woman was making cakes<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And baking them on the hearth;</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And being faint with fasting,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">For the day was almost done,</SPAN><BR> +He asked her from her store of cakes<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">To give him a single one.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +So she made a very little cake,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">But as it baking lay,</SPAN><BR> +She looked at it, and thought it seemed<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Too large to give away.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Therefore she kneaded another,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And still a smaller one,</SPAN><BR> +But it looked, when she turned it over,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">As large as the first had done.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Then she took a tiny scrap of dough,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And rolled and rolled it flat;</SPAN><BR> +And baked it as thin as a wafer—<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">But she couldn't part with that.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +For she said, "My cakes that seem too small,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">When I eat them myself,</SPAN><BR> +Are yet too large to give away."<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">So she put them on the shelf.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Then the good Saint Peter grew angry,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">For he was hungry and faint;</SPAN><BR> +And surely such a woman<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Was enough to provoke a saint.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And he said, "You are far too selfish<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">To dwell in a human form,</SPAN><BR> +To have both food and shelter,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And fire to keep you warm.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"Now, you shall build as the birds do,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And shall get your scanty food</SPAN><BR> +By boring, and boring, and boring,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">All day in the hard dry wood."</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Then up she went through the chimney,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Never speaking a word,</SPAN><BR> +And out of the top flew a woodpecker,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">For she was changed to a bird.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +She had a scarlet cap on her head,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And that was left the same,</SPAN><BR> +But all the rest of her clothes were burned<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Black as a coal in the flame.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And every country schoolboy<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Has seen her in the wood;</SPAN><BR> +Where she lives in the trees till this very day,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Boring and boring for food.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And this is the lesson she teaches:<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Live not for yourself alone,</SPAN><BR> +Lest the needs you will not pity<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Shall one day be your own.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Give plenty of what is given you,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Listen to pity's call;</SPAN><BR> +Don't think the little you give is great,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And the much you get is small.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Now, my little boy, remember that,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And try to be kind and good,</SPAN><BR> +When you see the woodpecker's sooty dress,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And see her scarlet hood.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +You mayn't be changed to a bird, though you live<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">As selfishly as you can;</SPAN><BR> +But you will be changed to a smaller thing—<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">A mean and a selfish man.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 4.5em">—Phoebe Cary.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="footnote"> +[1] Used by permission of and special arrangement with Houghton, +Mifflin & Co. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap24"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +ALL ABOUT THE WOODPECKER +</H3> + + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +SUGGESTIONS FOR FIELD LESSONS +</H3> + +<P> +Comes north in May—often stays all winter—most commonly seen in the +fall. +</P> + +<P> +Song—shrill, lively call resembling the voice of the tree-frog. +</P> + +<P> +Male and female have crimson head and neck—upper parts black with +white marking—white band across wings—most conspicuous when bird is +in flight. +</P> + +<P> +Lower parts white—bill wedge-shaped, strong, and sharp—tail strong +and stiff, used as a brace when clinging to a tree-trunk and tapping +with bill—toes arranged two in front and two behind for better support +in clinging to tree trunks, etc. +</P> + +<P> +Young birds resemble the parents, except that in colour they are a +mottled gray. +</P> + +<P> +Food is largely fruit—green corn, nuts, and larval insects procured +from tree-trunks.—Sometimes stores away nuts, etc. +</P> + +<P> +Place chosen for nest is usually a rotting tree, which is easier to +bore.—Hollow from fifteen to eighteen inches deep.—Eggs pure white, +generally six in number. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap25"></A> +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +THE LARK +</H2> + +<A NAME="img-143"></A> +<CENTER> +<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-143.jpg" ALT="Larks" BORDER="2" WIDTH="378" HEIGHT="210"> +<H3 CLASS="h3center" STYLE="width: 378px"> +Larks +</H3> +</CENTER> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +IN THE MEADOW +</H3> + +<P> +If Jack's big black dog, Nero, had not chanced to snatch Phyllis's rag +doll by the head and run away with it this story would have never been +written. +</P> + +<P> +You see, Nero bounded straight across the meadow and Phyllis, fearing +that she would lose the doll, ran shrieking after him. +</P> + +<P> +Nero was only playing, and soon dropped the doll and ran off. Phyllis +regained her property and started to return, when a bird rose from the +grass at her feet with a queer whirring sound. +</P> + +<P> +Phyllis looked up at the bird and then down to the spot from which it +had flown. +</P> + +<P> +In another moment she would have stepped in the nest. This meadow +lark's nest was unlike any other Phyllis had found. Indeed, it could +scarcely be called a nest at all. +</P> + +<P> +But when she looked at it Phyllis thought what a wise little bird the +meadow lark must be to choose such a place for the nest. +</P> + +<P> +Had Phyllis not chanced upon it in just the way she did she might have +looked all day long and not discovered it. +</P> + +<P> +The nest was flat upon the ground. Around it and over it arched the +tall meadow grasses. The nest itself was made of grass—it seemed to +Phyllis that it was made in a somewhat careless manner, and that the +eggs might easily roll out upon the ground. +</P> + +<P> +There were four beautiful oval eggs in the nest—the largest birds' +eggs Phyllis had as yet discovered. They were over an inch long, and +were of a beautiful rosy white colour, speckled closely with reddish +brown spots. +</P> + +<P> +As Phyllis sat very still, the mother bird crept softly back to her +home. She carefully settled herself on the grassy nest and with her +bill tenderly tucked the eggs under her soft feathers. +</P> + +<P> +"How careful you are!" exclaimed Phyllis. "No fear of your breaking +the eggs." +</P> + +<P> +The brown bird rose up quickly in fright and looked uncertainly toward +the fence. Phyllis thought to see her whirr off again. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, don't go," she cried. "I will not harm you! Truly I will not +disturb you!" +</P> + +<P> +The meadow lark looked again toward the fence, and then settled herself +once more over her precious eggs. +</P> + +<P> +"Why do you look toward the fence so often?" asked Phyllis. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you not see that bird perched upon the fence?" asked the meadow +lark. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," Phyllis answered, "what is he doing there?" +</P> + +<P> +"He is our sentinel," said the meadow lark. "He is on the lookout for +danger. When he gives the alarm, the rest of the flock know there is +danger near. +</P> + +<P> +"When we hear the sentinel's alarm we are off in an instant. We fly +high into the air. Did you not notice how I hovered near the +grass-tops for a moment and then rose high into the air?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," answered Phyllis, "and I knew that you were a lark because of +that whirring sound you made when flying." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, but I am not really a lark at all," said the bird. "I am called +the meadow lark, but in truth I belong to the blackbird family. The +red-winged blackbird is an own cousin of mine. So also is the oriole, +who builds a queer hanging nest in the tree-tops. +</P> + +<P> +"The oriole is very proud of her woven nest, but I should consider it a +dangerous place for bird babies. My little ones will never be hurt by +falling from their nest. +</P> + +<P> +"Neither can I imagine how any bird can dare to build in such an open +place. +</P> + +<P> +"My home is hidden here amid the grasses. Sometimes we find places +like this, where the grass blades naturally arch over and hide the nest. +</P> + +<P> +"Sometimes we weave a sort of arch over the nest with the downy, fine +fibres from the grass leaves. +</P> + +<P> +"Did you notice the little lane down which I returned to my tiny home?" +</P> + +<P> +"No," said Phyllis, "I thought you just came through the grasses by the +easiest way." +</P> + +<P> +"If you will look closely," said the meadow lark, pecking away at her +own brown feathers, "if you look very, very closely, you will see the +tiny path which leads directly to my door." +</P> + +<P> +Phyllis leaned down and peered very curiously among the grass stems. +Sure enough, there was a tiny winding path, almost hidden from sight. +It led directly to the meadow lark's nest. +</P> + +<P> +"You are a very wonderful little bird," she cried. +</P> + +<P> +"I shall have some very wonderful babies one of these fine days," said +the meadow lark, proudly. +</P> + +<P> +"How safely they will be hidden from danger," said Phyllis. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," said the mother bird, shaking her head, sadly, "I am very sure +that I build in a safer manner than my cousins. But, alas, even meadow +larks are not free from danger." +</P> + +<P> +"I might have stepped on your nest?" said Phyllis. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," said the bird, "but what makes me fear most are the field-mice +and the snakes. They make great havoc in our nests when they discover +them. Many a tiny fledgling has been swallowed by a great creeping, +crawling snake. Many a beautiful egg has been eaten by the hungry +little field-mice." +</P> + +<P> +"I hope no harm will come to your little home," said Phyllis. "I +notice one thing which you have for a protection from harm." +</P> + +<P> +"What is that?" asked the meadow lark. +</P> + +<P> +"It is your colour." +</P> + +<P> +The meadow lark raised her head in gentle surprise. +</P> + +<P> +"And what has my colour to do with my danger?" she asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Why," said the little girl, feeling wondrous wise, "do you not see +that the browns of your feathery dress are the same colours as the +grass stems and the stubble amid which you brood and feed?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, so it is," said the meadow lark. "My back is brown, edged with +brownish white. That is like the grass stems. I am streaked with +black and brown and cream colours. That is like the blades of grass. +</P> + +<P> +"My throat and breast are yellow like the stubble amid which I feed. +You are wonderfully wise, Miss Phyllis." +</P> + +<P> +"What a beautiful black crescent you have upon your breast," said +Phyllis. "It was almost the first thing I noticed when I met you." +</P> + +<P> +"Did you observe the dark brown lines on my head? They seem to cross +my eyes." +</P> + +<P> +"I think you are quite beautiful," said Phyllis. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, but you should see my mate," said the meadow lark. "He is much +more beautiful than I. My feathers seem pale and faded when I walk +beside him. When fall comes, however, my own colours will brighten." +</P> + +<P> +"On what shall you feed your little ones?" +</P> + +<P> +"When I tell you, you will see again that I am wise in choosing this +place for a nest. +</P> + +<P> +"My babies need never grow hungry, for the grass seeds are always +falling. The beetles and worms and ants are always walking by. The +moths and the butterflies are for ever laying their eggs in all sorts +of convenient places. You remember how their eggs do not hatch out +into butterflies and moths at once. They are just ugly little worms +called grubs." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," said Phyllis, "I remember." +</P> + +<P> +The meadow lark carefully tucked an egg farther under her soft brown +feathers. +</P> + +<P> +"I am glad," she said, "that my eggs do not hatch out as grubs. +Perhaps if they did, I should care no more for my babies than the +butterfly does for hers. I am told that she does not even know her own +children." +</P> + +<P> +"You are quite right," said Phyllis. "She herself told me so." +</P> + +<P> +The meadow lark gave a low whistle and nervously flitted her tail, +showing the white feathers with which it was edged. +</P> + +<P> +"It has been some time since I have heard your clear, sweet whistle," +said Phyllis. "I thought you must have left our meadow. You have a +most beautiful voice." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, no, we shall not soon leave your meadow, Phyllis. In the autumn +we may join a party of larks and take our family to the marshes for +awhile, but we shall return. Meadow larks do sometimes go south for +the winter, but usually they live their lives in their home meadows." +</P> + +<P> +"Then you will sing for me again?" asked the little girl. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, with pleasure," said the meadow lark. +</P> + +<P> +"You remember how we used to sing in the spring? Just now our thoughts +are so taken up with our nesting that we have little time for song. +But later, when the little ones are able to care for themselves, I +shall gladly whistle to you once more." +</P> + +<P> +"I shall listen for you," said Phyllis. "Just now I must go, for I +hear my mother's voice. Good-bye, meadow lark!" +</P> + +<P> +And the meadow lark from her nest whistled a low good-bye. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap26"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE SONG OF THE MERRY LARK[1] +</H3> + + +<P> +Once there was an old gray pussy, and she went down into the meadow, +where she saw a merry lark flying among the tall reeds; and pussy said, +"Where are you going, little lark?" +</P> + +<P> +And the merry lark answered, "I am going to the king to sing him a song +this fine May morning." +</P> + +<P> +And pussy said, "Come here, little lark, and I'll let you see a pretty +ring round my neck." +</P> + +<P> +But the lark said, "No, no, gray pussy; no, no! You worried the little +mouse, but you shall not worry me." +</P> + +<P> +Then the lark flew away till he came to a high oak-tree, and there he +saw a gray, greedy hawk sitting. And the gray, greedy hawk said, +"Where are you going, pretty lark?" +</P> + +<P> +And the lark answered, "I am going to the king, to sing him a song this +fine May morning." +</P> + +<P> +And the gray, greedy hawk said, "Come here, little lark, and I'll let +you see a pretty feather in my wing." +</P> + +<P> +But the merry lark said, "No, no, gray, greedy hawk, no, no! You +pecked at the little linnet, but you shall not peck at me." +</P> + +<P> +Then the lark flew away till he came to the side of a rock, and there +he saw a sly fox sitting. And the sly fox said, "Where are you going, +sweet lark?" +</P> + +<P> +And the lark answered, "I am going to the king, to sing him a song this +fine May morning." +</P> + +<P> +And the sly fox said, "Come, little lark, and I'll let you see a pretty +white spot on the tip of my tail." +</P> + +<P> +But the lark said, "No, no, sly fox; no, no! You worried the little +lamb, but you shall not worry me." +</P> + +<P> +Then the merry lark flew away till he came to the garden of the king; +and there he sat among the red clover blossoms and sang his sweetest +song. +</P> + +<P> +And the king said to the queen, "What shall we do for this little lark +who has sung so sweet a song to us?" +</P> + +<P> +And the queen said to the king, "I think we must have some May-day +games for the little lark, and invite robin redbreast to sing with him." +</P> + +<P> +So the gay robin redbreast came and sang with the lark. +</P> + +<P> +And the king and the queen and all the fine lords and ladies danced and +made merry while the little birds sang. +</P> + +<P> +And after that the lark flew away home to his own green meadow, where +the old gray pussy-cat still lived among the tall reeds. +</P> + +<BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="footnote"> +[1] Permission of American Book Company. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap27"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +SAVED BY A LARK[1] +</H3> + + +<P> +Little Helen was four years old. She lived in the country in a white +house with green window blinds. The house stood in a large yard, and +had pretty flowers in front of it and a row of big maple-trees on each +side. +</P> + +<P> +Behind the house was an orchard, where the birds liked to build their +nests and sing their sweet songs. Helen had a swing between two large +apple-trees which stood a little way from the back door. She could +swing ever so high, and could almost touch the green apples on one of +the branches. +</P> + +<P> +Back of the orchard and garden stood three big red barns. These barns +were full of wonders for Helen. She was always glad to go into them +with her father, and see the piles of corn and wheat, the plows and +wagons, and the many other things that were there. +</P> + +<P> +One morning in the harvest-time Helen was standing alone upon the +door-step. The sun shone bright; the robins were singing in the +apple-trees; the grasshoppers were chirping in the lane; but Helen +heard only the sound of the far-off reaper, as it came to her through +the soft morning air. She knew that her father was with the reaper. +</P> + +<P> +Don't you know what a reaper is? It is that with which the farmer cuts +his grain when it is ripe. It is drawn by horses, and it cuts down the +grain stalks with many sharp knives, which move back and forth very +fast. +</P> + +<P> +"I think I will go out to the field and help father," said Helen to +herself. +</P> + +<P> +In another moment the little feet were turned toward the harvest field. +</P> + +<P> +Across the orchard and down the lane she went, carrying her sunbonnet +in her hand and talking to the grasshoppers, which would somehow get in +her way. +</P> + +<P> +But when at last she came to the field, she saw the men and the reaper +far away toward the other side. +</P> + +<P> +Helen kept on across the field, for she thought that she would soon +catch up with the men. But it did not take long for the little feet to +grow very tired. +</P> + +<P> +Then she sat down on a sheaf of wheat and looked around her, wishing +that her father would come. +</P> + +<P> +Just in front of her the tall yellow grain was still standing. Helen +wondered why her father had not cut it down. +</P> + +<P> +As she was looking, a lark flew out from among the grain singing a +rich, clear song. The little child clapped her hands for joy. Then +she jumped from her seat and ran toward the place from which the bird +had flown. +</P> + +<P> +"There is a nest in there, and I am going to find it," said Helen to +herself. She parted the tall yellow wheat-stalks to right and left, +and went forward, looking all about her with her bright, sharp eyes. +She did not have to go very far, for right before her was the nest, +sure enough, and in it were three little birds. +</P> + +<P> +Was there ever anything so cunning as those little heads, with their +tiny bills wide open! It was such a pretty place for a nest, too. +Helen clapped her hands again, she was so happy. +</P> + +<P> +Then she sat down by the nest, but she did not touch the birdies. It +was like being in a golden forest, for the grain was high above her +head. +</P> + +<P> +Soon her eyes began to feel heavy, for she was very tired after her +long walk. She sat down, with her head upon her arm, and in a short +time was fast asleep. +</P> + +<P> +On came the horses, drawing the great reaper with its sharp cutting +knives. Helen's father was driving, and they were coming right toward +the spot where the little child was lying! +</P> + +<P> +Oh, Helen, little does your father think that you are hidden there in +the tall grain! +</P> + +<P> +What was it that made the farmer check his horses all at once? Did +something tell him that his dear baby was in danger? +</P> + +<P> +Oh, no! he thought that she was safe at home with her mother. But he +was a good man with a kind heart, and he saw something that made him +stop. +</P> + +<P> +The lark was flying wildly about over the grain that was in front of +the reaper. She seemed to say, "Stop! stop!" The farmer thought that +he knew what she meant, and he was too kind-hearted to harm a bird's +nest. So he said to one of the men, "Here, Tom, come and hold the +horses. There must be a nest somewhere among this grain. I will walk +in and look for it." +</P> + +<P> +What a cry the men heard when he found little Helen fast asleep by the +lark's nest! How his heart almost stood still when he thought of the +danger that she had been in! He caught her up in his arms and covered +her face with kisses. "Oh, my darling!" he said, "it was the lark that +saved you!" +</P> + +<P> +Yes, it was the lark, and his own kind heart, that had saved her. +Helen was carried home in her father's strong arms. She could not +understand what made the tears run down his cheeks. +</P> + +<P> +It was some time before the men could go on with their work. They left +the grain standing around the lark's nest, to thank her, as they said, +for saving little Helen. +</P> + +<P> +As they stood looking at the little birds in the nest, one of the men, +with big tears in his eyes, said, "God bless the birds! Come away, +boys, and let the little mother feed her babies." +</P> + +<BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="footnote"> +[1] Permission of American Book Company. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap28"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +ALL ABOUT THE MEADOW LARK +</H3> + + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +SUGGESTIONS FOR FIELD LESSONS +</H3> + +<P> +Usually resident—sometimes goes south in late October, returning in +April. +</P> + +<P> +Song—a very beautiful sweet, clear whistle—heard in the early spring +and in the autumn—usually quite silent during brooding season. +</P> + +<P> +Female much paler in colour than male. General colour brown streaked +with brown and black and cream—breast and throat yellow—conspicuous +black crescent on breast—brown streak on head appearing to run through +the eyes—tail feathers edged with white, which is seen most plainly +when bird is in flight. +</P> + +<P> +Food—seeds, insects, larval insects, also swallows gravel to aid in +digestion. +</P> + +<P> +Nest made of grasses—built on the ground amid tall grass or +grain—usually quite skilfully hidden and arched or roofed over in a +very ingenious way. +</P> + +<P> +Eggs—four in number—about an inch and an eighth in length, a pure +white, speckled with brown. +</P> + +<P> +Greatest danger from snakes and field-mice. +</P> + +<P> +Meadow lark is not really a lark, but belongs to the blackbird family. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap29"></A> +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +THE OWL +</H2> + +<A NAME="img-169"></A> +<CENTER> +<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-169.jpg" ALT="The Owl" BORDER="2" WIDTH="386" HEIGHT="544"> +<H3 CLASS="h3center" STYLE="width: 386px"> +The Owl +</H3> +</CENTER> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +A GOOD-NIGHT +</H3> + +<P> +"Haw-haw! Hoo! hoo!" +</P> + +<P> +Phyllis listened again. +</P> + +<P> +"Haw-haw! Hoo! hoo! Hoo! Hoo!" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I see you now!" laughed Phyllis. +</P> + +<P> +The owl moved silently as a shadow and perched very near to the little +girl. His great round eyes and his yellow bill gleamed in the +starlight. +</P> + +<P> +"I heard you calling!" said Phyllis. "But I could not at first tell +just where you were. I looked in a dozen trees before I came to you." +</P> + +<P> +"To-who? To-who-whoo-oo-oo?" questioned the owl. +</P> + +<P> +Phyllis laughed again. The owl blinked wisely. +</P> + +<P> +"I am going home to-morrow," Phyllis said. "I shall start to school +next week. Some day, perhaps, I shall be as wise as you, Mr. Owl." +</P> + +<P> +The owl only blinked his great eyes. +</P> + +<A NAME="img-170"></A> +<CENTER> +<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-170.jpg" ALT=""The owl only blinked his great eyes"" BORDER="2" WIDTH="492" HEIGHT="652"> +<H3 CLASS="h3center" STYLE="width: 492px"> +"The owl only blinked his great eyes" +</H3> +</CENTER> + +<P> +"But I'm sure I can never look so wise," she added, politely. +</P> + +<P> +"Hoo-hoo-hoo-oo!" hooted the owl, blinking sleepily. +</P> + +<P> +"If you will not talk with me I shall say good-night to you at once!" +said Phyllis. +</P> + +<P> +"To-who? To-who-ooo-oo-oo?" +</P> + +<P> +"To-you! To-you-oo-oo-oo!" called Phyllis, running off laughing. +</P> + +<P> +"Papa," she said, a few moments later. "Papa, the hoot-owl would not +talk with me!" +</P> + +<P> +"Wise, wise owl!" said papa, smiling at her over his newspaper. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap30"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE OWL +</H3> + + +<P CLASS="poem"> +When cats run home, and light is come<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And dew is cold upon the ground,</SPAN><BR> +And the far-off stream is dumb,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And the whirring sail goes round,</SPAN><BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And the whirring sail goes round,</SPAN><BR> +Alone and warming his five wits<BR> +The white owl in the belfry sits.<BR> +</P> + +<P> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 4.5em">—Tennyson.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap31"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE OWL GIRL +</H3> + + +<P> +Once a very queer little girl lived in a village beside the great Yukon +River. +</P> + +<P> +This little girl did not care to play with other children. Indeed, all +day long she would sit inside the stone hut and sleep. +</P> + +<P> +But as soon as evening came the little girl would awaken. She would +run out to the river-bank to play. She would shout and laugh. +</P> + +<P> +She did not mind the dark. In fact she declared that the sun hurt her +eyes and that she could see far better in the dark. +</P> + +<P> +The child's mother said that for all her queerness the little girl was +very wise. She knew many things which grown-up people had never heard. +</P> + +<P> +The people of the village shook their heads. They said there was magic +in it all, and that some day something strange would surely happen. +</P> + +<P> +So, when at sunset the queer little girl ran shouting to the river, the +people of the village watched from the bushes. +</P> + +<P> +And sure enough, something very wonderful did happen! +</P> + +<P> +One evening the little girl with her big shiny eyes ran shouting among +the trees which grew beside the river. +</P> + +<P> +She was chasing a little field-mouse, which at last ran tremblingly up +the low branch of a tree and hid in the dark. +</P> + +<P> +But the queer little girl, who could see quite well in the dark, jumped +to follow the mouse. +</P> + +<P> +Lo, as she jumped, the queer little girl changed into a bird with a +long, long beak and great shining eyes! +</P> + +<P> +Now when she saw what had happened to her she was frightened. In her +fright she flew back to her mother's stone hut. +</P> + +<P> +But now that she was a bird she did not remember about the doors and +windows. She flew wildly against the stone wall of the house. +</P> + +<P> +So rapid was her flight that she struck the wall with great force. Her +long bill and her face were quite flattened by the blow. +</P> + +<P> +She forgot her mother's house, and in pain flew again to the trees by +the river. +</P> + +<P> +The next night the mother heard the voice of her queer little girl +among the leaves calling, "Whoo-whoo-whoo!" +</P> + +<P> +But when she looked she saw only a flat-faced, big-eyed bird who was +making a supper of the poor little field-mouse. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap32"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE OWL AND THE RAVEN[1] +</H3> + + +<P> +Once upon a time the owl and the raven were fast friends. +</P> + +<P> +They lived beside the same stream. They built their nests in a tree +side by side. They sang the same songs. They ate the same food. They +wore dresses of the same pale gray. +</P> + +<P> +There was nothing that these friends would not do for each other. So +great was their friendship that each was always finding ways to +surprise and please the other. +</P> + +<P> +At one time the raven was absent for two whole days. +</P> + +<P> +"What can he be doing?" said the owl to herself. "I know he is +planning some new surprise for me." +</P> + +<P> +When, on the third day, the raven returned, the owl knew from his +contented looks that the present must be unusually fine. +</P> + +<P> +"It is something more than a beetle or a field-mouse this time," she +thought. "Now what can I do for him? He is always so kind to me!" +</P> + +<P> +Then the owl began to look about for something to do for her friend the +raven. +</P> + +<P> +On the shore near their home tree a huge whale had once been caught and +cut up by the Eskimo hunters. Some of the bones still lay upon the +sandy beach. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh," said the owl, as she chanced upon these whalebones, "I know the +very thing which will please my dear friend the raven! +</P> + +<P> +"I will make for him a pair of beautiful whalebone boots! With them he +can walk over the sharp rocks and the icy cliffs in comfort and safety!" +</P> + +<P> +Thereupon the owl sat down in the sand and went to work. It was not +long until the boots were finished. They were beautifully smooth and +slender and graceful. +</P> + +<P> +"The raven cannot help being pleased," she said, as she carried the +boots toward the home tree. "I wonder if he is in!" +</P> + +<P> +As she drew near the owl heard the raven calling her name. Answering +loudly, she hurried to the place where he waited. But before the raven +saw her she hid the whalebone boots among the grasses, that she might +surprise him later. +</P> + +<P> +She found the raven hopping impatiently about and calling loudly. +</P> + +<P> +"Here—here I am!" she cried. "I have been away for but a short +time—but you were away for days!" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, owl, dear," replied the raven, "though I have been absent I have +thought only of you! +</P> + +<P> +"See! here is a beautiful new dress which I have made for you!" And +the raven spread before his friend a beautiful dress of dappled black +and white. +</P> + +<P> +It was made of the softest, most beautiful feathers, lovely enough to +delight the heart of any bird. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, how very beautiful!" cried the owl. "How kind you are to me! How +did you ever think of anything so lovely?" +</P> + +<P> +The raven smiled, well pleased with himself. +</P> + +<P> +"Try it on," he said. "I am sure it will become you. I am certain +that when you see how lovely you look, you will never again wish to +wear anything but black and white." +</P> + +<P> +Quickly the owl slipped from her old gray dress into the splendid new +one. Gently she fluttered about and ruffled the soft black and white +feathers. +</P> + +<P> +"Where did you get them?" she said, circling about and looking at her +tail for the twentieth time. +</P> + +<P> +"Sit down," commanded the raven, "and I will tell you!" So the owl +settled down on the branch beside the raven. +</P> + +<P> +"I found the feathers on that steep, rocky cliff beside the sea," he +said. "The stones were sharp and the winds were wearying, but at last +I finished the dress just as I planned. +</P> + +<P> +"I am glad that you are pleased. I am very tired now, and must sit +still and rest." +</P> + +<P> +So delighted was the owl that for a moment she had forgotten the +whalebone boots. Now as she looked at the raven she saw that in +scratching about for the feathers he had broken one of his pink toes. +</P> + +<P> +With a little cry of pity she flew to the grasses where the boots were +hidden. Quickly she snatched them up and flew back to the poor tired +raven. +</P> + +<P> +"Here," she cried, "here!—I thought of you while you were away. Now +you shall put your tired feet into these strong whale-bone boots. The +stones and the ice cannot hurt you again." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, oh!" croaked the raven. "They are the very things for which I +have been longing!" +</P> + +<P> +"Put them on! Put them on!" cried the owl. "See how they will rest +you! They will make you feel quite young again!" +</P> + +<P> +The raven slipped his tired feet into the whalebone boots. Straight +away the old tired ache left him. He hopped gaily about and croaked +cheerfully. +</P> + +<P> +"How graceful!" he said. "How perfectly they fit! How comfortable." +</P> + +<P> +"Now I shall make a coat for you," said the owl. "It shall be pure +white. The feathers shall be the shiniest and the loveliest that I can +find!" +</P> + +<P> +By and bye the raven's white coat was ready to be fitted. +</P> + +<P> +"Come," commanded the owl. "Come and stand still while I fit your +coat." +</P> + +<P> +The raven came, but so delighted was he with the whalebone boots that +he could not stand still. As the owl worked over him he kept hopping +and dancing about. +</P> + +<P> +"Stand still!" cried the owl. "I can do nothing with you hopping about +so. I shall stick the pin-feathers into you!" +</P> + +<P> +For an instant the raven stood still, looking down at the boots. Then +he jumped so suddenly that the owl dropped a whole clawful of the soft +white feathers with which she was finishing the neck. +</P> + +<P> +Then the owl grew very angry. +</P> + +<P> +"Stand still!" she hooted. "If you jump another time I will throw the +oil from the lamp on you!"' +</P> + +<P> +Now the lamp was filled with whale-oil. In it wicks of moss and +twisted grass had been burned. With time and many wicks the oil had +become as black as soot. +</P> + +<P> +The raven looked at the black, sooty oil and then at his new white +coat. He really stood still for as much as two minutes. +</P> + +<P> +Just as the owl was trying to decide whether or not the coat should be +longer, to cover the tops of the new boots, the raven caught sight of +his own reflection in the clear water below. +</P> + +<P> +So pleased was he with his appearance that he flapped his wings, and +jumped up and down. +</P> + +<P> +The loose white feathers flew in every direction. The pin-feathers +dropped to the ground. The angry owl gasped for breath. +</P> + +<P> +Then in a rage she seized the lamp. She flung it at the raven. Alas, +for the poor fellow! The oil struck him full on the head. It ran down +before. It ran down behind! There was not a dry feather on him! +</P> + +<P> +"Quag! Quag!" croaked he, the oil dripping down on all sides. "Quag! +Quag! I shall never speak to you again!" +</P> + +<P> +"No," cried the owl. "Do not speak to me again. I would not have such +a sooty friend as you!" and she flew far away. +</P> + +<BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="footnote"> +[1] Adapted from Ethnological Bureau Report. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap33"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE OWL +</H3> + + +<P CLASS="poem"> +When icicles hang by the wall,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And Dick the shepherd blows his nail,</SPAN><BR> +And Tom bears logs into the hall,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And milk comes frozen home in pail;</SPAN><BR> +When blood is nipped and ways be foul,<BR> +Then nightly sings the staring owl,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">"Tu-who!</SPAN><BR> +Tu-whit! tu-who!" a merry note,<BR> +While greasy Jean doth clean the pot.<BR> +</P> + +<P> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 4.5em">—"Love's Labour's Lost," Shakespeare.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap34"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +ALL ABOUT THE BARRED OR HOOT OWL +</H3> + + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +SUGGESTIONS FOR FIELD LESSONS +</H3> + +<P> +Notes—deep-toned, startling hoot. +</P> + +<P> +Heard most frequently at nesting time. +</P> + +<P> +Upper parts brown, marked with white—face gray, mottled with black, +wings and tail barred with brown, eyes blue black, bill yellow, under +parts buff marked with darker, legs and feet feathered, bill and claws +dark, hooked, strong. +</P> + +<P> +Feeds on chicken, mice, etc. +</P> + +<P> +Usually take an old crow's or woodpecker's nest for their own +use—rarely make nests for themselves. Nest very early in the season, +young being sometimes ready to fly early in March. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap35"></A> +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +THE BOBOLINK +</H2> + +<A NAME="img-189"></A> +<CENTER> +<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-189.jpg" ALT="The Bobolink" BORDER="2" WIDTH="398" HEIGHT="543"> +<H3 CLASS="h3center" STYLE="width: 398px"> +The Bobolink +</H3> +</CENTER> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +A SUMMER SONG +</H3> + +<P> +He sat upon the tallest bending grass stalk. He paid not the slightest +attention to Phyllis. He just swung lightly with the June breezes, and +sang his little heart out. +</P> + +<P> +Such a careless, joyous, jingling song Phyllis had never before heard. +It seemed just a bubbling-over of happiness and gladness. +</P> + +<P> +And such a common-looking little fellow to have such a wonderful voice! +He was but a little larger than a sparrow. +</P> + +<P> +His plumage was mostly black. His wings and tail were edged with pale +yellow, and there were splashes of white in places on his body. There +was a light yellow spot on the back of his neck. +</P> + +<P> +"You seem filled with gladness," said Phyllis. +</P> + +<P> +The little bird stared at her for a moment. Then he nodded his head, +and quivered his small wings. He opened his mouth again and warbled +out the jolliest, sweetest tune that bird throat ever sang. +</P> + +<P> +"How very beautiful!" cried Phyllis. "What a world of happiness you +send out in that song!" +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, but I should be happy," warbled the sweet-voiced bobolink. "I +have all that bird heart can wish!" +</P> + +<P> +"Tell me—" said Phyllis. +</P> + +<P> +"I at last have won my wife," sang the bobolink. "At this very moment, +in this very field, she is sitting on a nestful of light blue eggs." +</P> + +<A NAME="img-191"></A> +<CENTER> +<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-191.jpg" ALT=""'She is sitting on a nestful of light blue eggs'"" BORDER="2" WIDTH="502" HEIGHT="655"> +<H3 CLASS="h3center" STYLE="width: 502px"> +"'She is sitting on a nestful of light blue eggs'" +</H3> +</CENTER> + +<P> +"Listen, Phyllis, and I will tell you all about it. +</P> + +<P> +"It was about the middle of May when my brothers and I started north. +All winter long we had wandered through the rice-fields of the South. +</P> + +<P> +"We were not happy there. We feared for our lives. There we are not +called bobolinks and the people of the South never listen for our songs. +</P> + +<P> +"In fact we seldom sing when we are in the South. The hunters call us +'rice-birds' or 'reed-birds.' With their terrible guns they hunt us +early and late. +</P> + +<P> +"It was no wonder, then, that we were so glad to return to the North. +It was a long journey, but we did not tire. In fact we travelled +mostly at night. During the day we feasted in the fields or at grain +stacks. +</P> + +<P> +"For a few days we flew about here, and sang out our names to every +passer-by. +</P> + +<P> +"Just ten days after our arrival something very wonderful happened. +Our sisters and wives and sweethearts came with fluttering wings and +sweet, quiet ways. +</P> + +<P> +"On that very day I met the lovely bird who now broods so gently over +our eggs. +</P> + +<P> +"She seemed to me the most beautiful bobolink that ever was. Early and +late I sang to her. My most beautiful songs seemed not half good +enough for so lovely a bird. +</P> + +<P> +"I, alas, was not the only bobolink who admired her. My own brother +was quite as delighted with her. He, too, sang to her. +</P> + +<P> +"Sometimes we sat in the same tree, each of us singing our hearts out +to the shy little creature whom we both loved. +</P> + +<P> +"I am sorry to say we did more than sing for the demure little bird. +We fought for her. We quarrelled fiercely. But at last it was I who +won her, and my brother found for himself another wife." +</P> + +<P> +"I wish I could find your nest," said Phyllis. +</P> + +<P> +"It is in this field," said the bobolink. "It is near the brook, and +every morning we both fly down there for a refreshing bath. +</P> + +<P> +"I have told you all this, and yet, Phyllis, I venture to say that you +might hunt all day among the grasses and not find my nest. For the +leaves and the grasses bend over and about the nest where my little +mate sits. +</P> + +<P> +"Should I call to her she would come to me. You perhaps would run to +the spot where she rose from the grass. But you would not find the +nest. +</P> + +<P> +"My wife in her quiet brown dress is too wise for that. She never +flies up directly from the nest. She runs a distance among the grass +stems and then starts up from the grasses. +</P> + +<P> +"There are five eggs in the nest, light blue with spots of blackish +brown. +</P> + +<P> +"When they are hatched, you will hear very little music from me. I +shall put on a quiet dress, much like the one which my mate now wears, +and will work early and late bringing food to my babies. +</P> + +<P> +"They shall have the very choicest grains and bugs and grasshoppers. +There will soon be no time for singing." +</P> + +<P> +"But when the little ones are grown—" said Phyllis. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, yes, then I will sing again for you. But listen, Phyllis!" +</P> + +<P> +Phyllis heard a sweet little "Chink! Chink! Chink!" +</P> + +<P> +"My little mate is calling," gurgled the bobolink, flying away and +leaving the grass-top swaying wildly. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap36"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +ROBERT OF LINCOLN +</H3> + + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Merrily swinging on brier and weed,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Near to the nest of his little dame,</SPAN><BR> +Over the mountainside or mead,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Robert of Lincoln is telling his name.</SPAN><BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">"Bobolink, bob-o'-link,</SPAN><BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">Spink, spank, spink;</SPAN><BR> +Snug and safe is that nest of ours,<BR> +Hidden among the summer flowers,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">Chee, chee, chee!"</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Robert of Lincoln is gaily drest,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Wearing a bright black wedding-coat,</SPAN><BR> +White are his shoulders and white his crest.<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Hear him call in his merry note:</SPAN><BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2.5em">"Bobolink, bob-o'-link,</SPAN><BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2.5em">Spink, spank, spink;</SPAN><BR> +Look what a nice new coat is mine,<BR> +Sure there was never a bird so fine!<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2.5em">Chee, chee, chee!"</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Robert of Lincoln's Quaker wife,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Pretty and quiet in plain brown wings,</SPAN><BR> +Passing at home a patient life,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Broods in the grass while her husband sings:</SPAN><BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">"Bobolink, bob-o-link,</SPAN><BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">Spink, spank, spink;</SPAN><BR> +Brood, kind creature, you need not fear<BR> +Thieves and robbers while I am here!<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">Chee, chee, chee!"</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 4.5em">—Bryant.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap37"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +ALL ABOUT THE BOBOLINK OR RICEBIRD +</H3> + + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +SUGGESTIONS FOR FIELD LESSONS +</H3> + +<P> +Male arrives north middle of May.—Female comes some ten or twelve days +later—travel generally by night and in flocks.—Flies south from +August to October. +</P> + +<P> +Song is most musical and sweet, expressing joy and careless +happiness—the song of the female is but a short, sweet "Chink, +chink."—While the young are being cared for, the male does not sing as +he does earlier in the season, but takes up the plaintive "chink" of +his mate. +</P> + +<P> +Male in spring is black with pale yellow markings on back and wings and +tail. Yellow spot on back of neck—a patch of white on breast and +other white markings. +</P> + +<P> +Female pale yellow beneath—upper parts generally brown—two dark +stripes on top of the head. In autumn plumage of male resembles female. +</P> + +<P> +Nest of grasses well hidden by thick leaves and stems.—Usually built +in clump of grasses and always on the ground and very shallow. +</P> + +<P> +Eggs are pale blue with dark brown spots.—Four or five in +number.—Young birds when fully feathered are so alike that in a flock +young cannot be distinguished from old. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap38"></A> +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +THE SEA-DOVES +<BR> +AND THE +<BR> +GREAT BLUE HERON +</H2> + +<A NAME="img-201"></A> +<CENTER> +<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-201.jpg" ALT="Great Blue Heron" BORDER="2" WIDTH="236" HEIGHT="409"> +<H3 CLASS="h3center" STYLE="width: 398px"> +Great Blue Heron +</H3> +</CENTER> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +BESIDE THE SEA +</H3> + +<P> +One hot August day Phyllis went to the seashore to live. +</P> + +<P> +"Such fun," she cried, as the train drew up at the seaside station. +"Such fun as I shall have playing in the sand and wading in the water." +</P> + +<P> +It was not half an hour before she was running along the beach beside +the cliffs. Her feet were bare, and she wriggled her toes in the sand +and splashed into the puddles of water. +</P> + +<P> +Presently she saw a number of little birds running along the beach and +flying over the water. +</P> + +<P> +"How swiftly they fly, and how well they dive," she said. "How easily +they swim, and they sometimes settle on the waves and rest. I wish +they would come nearer!" +</P> + +<P> +"I will tell you about them," said a solemn voice near by. Phyllis +stumbled in her surprise and splashed the water into her eyes. When +she could see again, a great blue heron was standing near. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh!" cried Phyllis, a bit frightened. "It is strange that I did not +see you. Yes, do tell me about the little sea-bird—and about yourself +also!" +</P> + +<P> +So the blue heron drew his head down between his shoulders, and, +standing on one leg, told Phyllis what he knew of the little sea-doves. +</P> + +<P> +"That little bird with brown back and white breast loves the sea," said +the heron. "He is never tired of the blue waves. +</P> + +<P> +"In stormy weather the little sea-dove is most happy, because it is +then that the waves are laden with small fish and crabs. During stormy +weather the little fisherman grows fat. +</P> + +<P> +"Watch them as they fly. Do you see how they are constantly dipping +their bills into the water? That is their way of fishing. +</P> + +<P> +"The sea-doves' nests are among the cliffs. In them they lay just two +bluish-white little eggs. +</P> + +<P> +"Sometimes, when the winds are very strong, the sea-doves are blown far +inland. Sometimes they find their way back to the sea. But there are +other times when they do not return." +</P> + +<P> +"And where is your own nest, O Great Blue Heron?" asked Phyllis, half +laughing at the queer, long-legged bird. +</P> + +<P> +"It is over yonder on a rock," said the heron. "There are now four +dull blue-green eggs in the nest. +</P> + +<P> +"Soon there will be four ugly, helpless birdlings, who will sit up and +cry for food. It will be at least three weeks after they are hatched +before they will try to wade out into these flat sea-marshes. I shall +have to let no fish escape me, if I do not wish the fledglings to +starve." +</P> + +<P> +"You do not think your babies pretty?" asked Phyllis. +</P> + +<P> +"No," said the heron, truthfully, "they are not even so good-looking as +other birds' babies. But that I do not mind, for will they not some +day be as beautiful as I myself?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," said Phyllis, "I have seen your picture many a time. In +mother's room is a large screen and on it is your likeness embroidered +in silks. The long green grasses are growing about you in the picture. +One foot is drawn up and your head is drawn down between your shoulders +just as it now is." +</P> + +<P> +"That is the way to rest," said the heron. +</P> + +<P> +"What were you doing here?" Phyllis asked, wading a little closer to +the long-legged bird. +</P> + +<P> +"I was fishing," said the great blue heron. "It is the one thing I +delight in. From morning till night—" +</P> + +<P> +"My brother Jack—" began Phyllis, but the bird paid no attention. +</P> + +<P> +"I sometimes stand here perfectly still for hours. I wait patiently +for the fish or the frogs to appear. +</P> + +<P> +"Then I strike suddenly with my strong, sharp bill. I snap up the fish +or frog and give it a knock or two to kill it. +</P> + +<P> +"Then I eat it. If it is a fish I swallow it, head first, so that the +scales shall not scratch my throat. +</P> + +<P> +"But see, Phyllis, the sun has set, and I have not yet had my supper. +I really must leave you!" +</P> + +<P> +Then the great blue heron rose slowly and silently and circled away +over the flat sea-marshes. Barefooted Phyllis scampered back to the +little seaside cottage, where a fish supper was awaiting her. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap39"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +SEA-PIGEONS +</H3> + + +<P> +It was very early in the spring. The sun rose, stayed for only a +moment above the horizon, and then sank again from the sight of Eskimo +children. +</P> + +<P> +But already huge icebergs broke from the shore and floated out to sea. +Already the icy winds hurried away farther north. Already a few of the +bravest birds were returning for the summer season. +</P> + +<P> +It happened that a whole family of Eskimo children ran shouting and +laughing along the top of a cliff which overhung the sea. +</P> + +<P> +The older ones cared for the little ones. All were as happy and +thoughtless as children could be. In their glee they took off their +boots and ran with bare feet. +</P> + +<P> +Now below the cliff on the ice waited some Eskimo hunters. They +watched the huge cakes of ice farther out break off and float away. +They knew that soon the ice nearer shore would crack and float off in +the same manner. +</P> + +<P> +They knew also that when the shore ice cracked the seals would rise and +push their noses out of the water for air. +</P> + +<P> +The hunters, therefore, sat for hours upon their three-legged stools, +waiting with ever-ready spears. +</P> + +<P> +The children, not seeing the hunters, ran more noisily among the high +rocks of the cliff. +</P> + +<P> +At last with a booming sound the ice cracked and spread apart. The +water gushed up and spread lightly over the ice. The hunters waited +breathlessly. +</P> + +<P> +It was but a moment before the brown nose of a seal appeared. The +hunters lifted their spears to strike. But at that instant came a +wilder shout from the children and the brown nose of the seal +disappeared. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh," cried the hunter, angrily, "I wish the cliff would topple over on +those noisy children!" +</P> + +<P> +Hardly were the words spoken when with a great clash the cliff did +topple over. As the falling stones rattled about him the hunter heard +the shrieks of the children. +</P> + +<P> +Neither the hunters nor the children were ever again seen in the +village. But the next day some birds with pink wet feet ran about +among the stones at the foot of the cliffs. As they ran they made +strange cries which sounded half like children's laughter. +</P> + +<P> +"Listen," say the Eskimo people, when they hear the sea-pigeons cry, +"Listen to the voices of the little children who shouted so loud that +they frightened away the seals!" +</P> + +<P> +"Look!" cry the Eskimo children, when they see the pink feet of the +sea-pigeons, "those are the cold, bare little feet of the Eskimo +children who ran and shouted on the cliffs above!" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap40"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE SANDPIPER[1] +</H3> + + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Across the narrow beach we flit,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">One little sandpiper and I;</SPAN><BR> +And fast I gather, bit by bit,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">The scattered driftwood bleached and dry.</SPAN><BR> +The wild waves reach their hands for it,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">The wild wind raves, the tide runs high,</SPAN><BR> +As up and down the beach we flit,—<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">One little sandpiper and I.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Above our heads the sullen clouds<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Scud black and swift across the sky;</SPAN><BR> +Like silent ghosts in misty shrouds<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Stand out the white lighthouses high.</SPAN><BR> +Almost as far as eye can reach<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">I see the close-reefed vessels fly,</SPAN><BR> +As fast we flit along the beach,—<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">One little sandpiper and I.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I watch him as he skims along,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Uttering his sweet and mournful cry;</SPAN><BR> +He starts not at my fitful song,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Or flash of fluttering drapery;</SPAN><BR> +He has no thought of any wrong;<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">He scans me with a fearless eye.</SPAN><BR> +Stanch friends are we, well tried and strong,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">The little sandpiper and I.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Comrade, where wilt thou be to-night<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">When the loosed storm breaks furiously?</SPAN><BR> +My driftwood fire will burn so bright!<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">To what warm shelter canst thou fly?</SPAN><BR> +I do not fear for thee, though wroth<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">The tempest rushes through the sky;</SPAN><BR> +For are we not God's children both,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Thou, little sandpiper, and I?</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 4.5em">—Mrs. Thaxter.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="footnote"> +[1] Used by permission of and special arrangement with Houghton, +Mifflin & Co. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap41"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE CIRCLING OF CRANES +</H3> + + +<P> +One autumn day ages and ages ago, the cranes were preparing to go +south. Cranes always dreaded the cold and flew away to the summer-land +at the first glitter of the frost. +</P> + +<P> +The crane leader had a loud, hoarse voice, and he called and called to +his flock to hurry. The cranes came from all directions at the call of +their leader. The father and mother cranes came. The old cranes came +and the young cranes came. Even the babies, whose feathers were scarce +grown, came flying at the call of the leader. +</P> + +<P> +All the cranes were happy, for they were going to the summer-land. +They were glad to go, for already the frost jewels sparkled on the +brown grasses and the cold winds were beginning to blow. +</P> + +<P> +"Come! come!" cried the crane leader, and his voice was hoarse with +shouting. "Come! It is full time we were off!" +</P> + +<P> +Young and old spread their wings for flight. They waited a moment for +their leader to take his place. As they waited the cranes glanced down +to the cold, bare country which they were about to leave. +</P> + +<P> +Thus looking down, the cranes saw a beautiful maiden standing alone at +the edge of the village. +</P> + +<P> +"How lovely she is!" said the crane leader. "And how lonely she seems!" +</P> + +<P> +"How thin her dress is!" said another crane. +</P> + +<P> +"See, she is weeping!" cried a third. Just at that moment the maiden +looked up and saw the flock of cranes above her. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh," she cried, "you are going to the summer-land. I wish I had +wings. I would fly away with you! +</P> + +<P> +"Alas! in this cold, cheerless Northland I shall starve and freeze. I +have no home. I have no friends. +</P> + +<P> +"There is no oil in my stone stove! There is no meat in my kettle. +What shall I do when the thick snow flies and the winter winds cut like +knives?" +</P> + +<P> +The crane leader looked down at the beautiful maiden in pity. The +whole flock, young and old, were filled with a wish to help the girl. +It was very sad, they said, that one so young and lovely should ever be +cold or hungry or unhappy. +</P> + +<P> +"Let us carry the maiden with us to the summer-land!" whispered a young +crane. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, let us take her to the land of ever-lasting summer," begged an +old crane. +</P> + +<P> +"There she might gather food from the grain-fields. She might pick +berries by the roadside. She might drink from the clear, cool brooks +that run to the sea," said the leader. +</P> + +<P> +Following their leader, the whole flock swept down to the earth. They +gathered about the lovely, lonely maiden. +</P> + +<P> +They lifted her on their widespread wings and bore her up into the air. +</P> + +<P> +The maiden's long dark hair floated out like a cloud. She smiled +happily as the cranes with one voice told her of the summer-land to +which they would carry her. +</P> + +<P> +With wings outspread, that she might not fall, the cranes bore the +maiden away. Day and night, night and day, they carried her and never +seemed to tire. +</P> + +<P> +And the maiden had no fear. She laughed in sheer happiness when they +told her again and again of the beautiful country to which they +journeyed. +</P> + +<P> +For into that land, the cranes told her, neither cold nor hunger came. +They would show her the richest grain-fields. They would tell her +where the sweetest berries grew. They would show her wondrous blossoms +which grew for her in the distant summer-land. +</P> + +<P> +The beautiful maiden was never again seen in the cold, dreary +Northland, for to this day she wanders beside the sweet-voiced streams +in the far-off summer-land. +</P> + +<P> +But season by season the cranes, with wide-spread wings and hoarse +cries, return to the Northland at nesting-time. +</P> + +<P> +There they remain through the short sunny summer, but when the first +snowflakes flutter through the air the cranes prepare to fly away. +</P> + +<P> +And even to this day they circle about on widespread wings as though +they again carried the beautiful maiden. +</P> + +<P> +Even to this day the cranes, young and old, shout so loudly the praises +of the summer-land that their voices are hoarse and harsh. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap42"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +ALL ABOUT THE GREAT BLUE HERON OR BLUE CRANE +</H3> + + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +SUGGESTIONS FOR FIELD LESSONS +</H3> + +<P> +Usually resident throughout the year. Lives in marshy, swampy places. +</P> + +<P> +Head and throat white, with long black crest.—Very long neck covered +with light gray feathers—darker on chest—back, ashy gray—darker +wings—a touch of red on bend of wings and legs. +</P> + +<P> +Long legs, which are black. +</P> + +<P> +Long bill, which is yellow, sharp, and strong. +</P> + +<P> +Food—mostly fish, frogs, and small reptiles. Feeds near sunset. +</P> + +<P> +Nest very simple—sometimes directly on ground or rocks—at other times +a rickety platform of sticks. +</P> + +<P> +Eggs blue-green—four in number—young helpless for at least three +weeks after hatching. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap43"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +ALL ABOUT THE SEA-DOVE +</H3> + + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +SUGGESTIONS FOR FIELD LESSONS +</H3> + +<P> +Goes far north in nesting season. Found in Illinois swamps, and as far +north as Greenland. +</P> + +<P> +Small bird with entire upper parts almost black—under parts +white—wings tipped with white, bill black—feet pale red—toes webbed. +</P> + +<P> +Food obtained from the waves—flies swiftly and dives well—walks on +land better than most water-birds. +</P> + +<P> +Lays but two bluish-white eggs. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="finis"> +THE END. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Stories of Birds, by Lenore Elizabeth Mulets + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STORIES OF BIRDS *** + +***** This file should be named 20547-h.htm or 20547-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/0/5/4/20547/ + +Produced by Al Haines + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Stories of Birds + +Author: Lenore Elizabeth Mulets + +Release Date: February 8, 2007 [EBook #20547] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STORIES OF BIRDS *** + + + + +Produced by Al Haines + + + + + + + + + + +[Illustration: Cover Art] + + +[Frontispiece: "He came quite close and stared at the little girl" +(missing from book)] + + + + + + +STORIES OF BIRDS + + +By + +Lenore Elizabeth Mulets + + + +_Illustrated by_ + +Sophie Schneider + + + + _"When our babe he goeth walking in his garden + Around his tinkling feet the sunbeams play; + The posies they are good to him + And bow them as they should to him + As he fareth upon his kingly way: + The birdlings of the wood to him + Make music, gentle music, all the day + When our babe he goeth walking in his garden."_ + + _--Eugene Field._ + + + + +Boston: L. C. Page and Company + +Publishers + + + + +Copyright, 1903 + +By L. C. PAGE & COMPANY + +(Incorporated) + + +All rights reserved + + + +Made in U.S.A. + + + +New Edition, April, 1925 + + + +THE COLONIAL PRESS + +C. H. SIMONDS CO., BOSTON, U. S. A. + + + + +PREFACE + +Where can you find a lad who does not treasure among his secrets the +nesting-place of some pair of birds? Where can you find a child who +does not watch for the first robin of spring-time? Where can you find +one who does not know when the wild ducks in the wedge-shaped flocks +fly southward? + +This little book of "Bird Stories" is written both for the children who +already know our common birds, and for those who may know them if they +choose. + +For those children who know, the book is a verification of their own +facts, with an addition of stories, poems, and songs to make facts +beautiful; for the children who do not know, the book is a simple set +of facts placed before them for verification and entertainment. + +To all, may the knowledge obtained be a pleasure and a delight. + +LENORE ELIZABETH MULETS. + + + + +CONTENTS + + +The Chickadee + In the Snow + Twenty Little Chickadees + The Snowbird's Song + How the Birds Got Their Feathers + Chilly Little Chickadees + All About the Chickadee + +Robin Redbreast + Merry Robin Redbreast + The Robin's Red Breast + Which Was the Wiser? + All About the Robin + +The Swallow + Under the Eaves + The Swallows + All About the Barn Swallow + +The Hawk and the Raven + From the Barnyard Fence + The First Hawk + Origin of the Raven and the Macaw + All About the Chicken-Hawk + All About the Raven + +The Kingfisher + With the Water Watchman + The Halcyon Birds + All About the Kingfisher + +The Red-Headed Woodpecker + In Cap of Red + A Legend of the Northland + All About the Woodpecker + +The Lark + In the Meadow + The Song of the Merry Lark + Saved by a Lark + All About the Meadow Lark + +The Owl + A Good-Night + The Owl (Tennyson) + The Owl Girl + The Owl and the Raven + The Owl (Shakespeare) + All About the Barred or Hoot Owl + +The Bobolink + A Summer Song + Robert of Lincoln + All About the Bobolink or Rice-Bird + +The Sea-Doves and the Great Blue Heron + Beside the Sea + Sea-Pigeons + The Sandpiper + The Circling of Cranes + All About the Great Blue Heron or Blue Crane + All About the Sea-Dove + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + + +"He came quite close and stared at the little + girl" (see page 4) . . . . . . Frontispiece + +"By this time the robin was on the ground" + +"'No robin or chickadee could build such nests as the swallow'" + +"On a branch sat a bird. He was considerably larger than a robin" + +"The owl only blinked his great eyes" + +"'She is sitting on a nestful of light blue eggs'" + + + + +THE CHICKADEE + +OR SNOWBIRD + +[Illustration: The Chickadee] + +IN THE SNOW + +It was a bright, wintry day. The frost jewels sparkled on the snow. +The winds blew cutting cold from the north. + +Phyllis, in her scarlet coat and cap, and long, warm leggings, waded in +the deepest drifts she could find. + +Out by the garden fence was the greatest drift. After floundering +through it, Phyllis climbed up and perched on the top rail of the fence. + +She sat quite still, for she was almost breathless after her struggle +in the snow. + +Suddenly, just over her head, Phyllis heard a whistle. She started so +that she almost fell from the fence. + +Again came the whistle, clear, sweet, and long drawn out. Phyllis +looked up, and there on the branch of the elm-tree sat a cheery little +bird. + +With a third whistle he flew down to the fence and perched beside +Phyllis. + +He came quite close and stared at the little girl in a gay, curious +manner, as though he might be looking for a playfellow. + +"Who are you?" asked Phyllis, looking like a great red bird as she +perched on the fence. + +"Chick-a-dee! Chick-a-dee! Chick-a-dee-dee-dee!" twittered the little +fellow. It seemed to Phyllis that he laughed because she did not know +him. + +"Oh, to be sure," said she. "How stupid of me not to remember. I have +met you a hundred times. + +"I should have remembered your black head and throat. The sides of +your head and neck are white. Your breasts and sides are light yellow. +Your tail and wings are of a much darker shade, and how daintily they +are edged with white!" + +The chickadee fluttered about for a moment, and noticing the +friendliness in Phyllis's tones he perched a little closer to her side. + +"I do not believe you noticed the large white feathers in my +shoulders," he said. "You may always know a chickadee by the white +markings there." + +"I did not notice your white shoulders at first," said Phyllis, "but I +saw at once what fine downy feathers you have. They are beautifully +soft. Do they make a warm winter dress? How do you chance to be here +in the winter-time? + +"I think it is time you were in the South, Mr. Chickadee! Did your +family leave you behind?" + +"No, indeed," replied Mr. Chickadee. "No, indeed, Phyllis! My entire +family are wintering here in the North. We never go South for the +winter. + +"We are quite happy to remain here at home, and to come out on sunshiny +days and whistle and sing and be happy. + +"Only half an hour ago some boys went coasting down that hill. I +whistled at them but they did not hear me. + +"Soon they came up the hill, drawing their sleds behind them. I +whistled again and called my name. + +"'Why, hello,' cried a boy in a blue reefer and a blue stocking cap. +'Hello, chickadee, you're a jolly little fellow! We call you our fair +weather friend because you sing so cheerily on these clear frosty days.' + +"'Oho!' laughed another boy, who had a big scratch on his nose, 'I saw +a chickadee flying about among the fir-trees on that very stormy day +last week. He sang just as cheerily through the storm.' Then the boy +whistled back to me and called my name." + +"That was my brother Jack," laughed Phyllis. "He got that scratch +while out coasting. He told me that he saw you on that stormy day. He +loves the winter quite as well as you do. You should hear him sing and +whistle when the snow falls for coasting. You should hear him shout +when the cold skating days come. He says that Jack Frost is a fellow's +best friend." + +"Indeed," said the jolly little chickadee, blinking his eyes in a funny +way, "my brothers say the very same thing!" + +"But how do you find anything to eat in the winter-time?" Phyllis +asked. "The insects and worms have long been dead. What did you have +for breakfast this morning?" + +"We had eggs and--" + +"Eggs?" cried Phyllis, not waiting for the bird to finish. "You had +eggs?" + +"Yes, moth's eggs," said the bird. "The moths leave their eggs about +in all sorts of places. We chickadees know where to find them!" + +"Are they--good?" asked Phyllis. + +"Delicious!" replied the chickadee. "I think I have eaten more than a +million insects' eggs in my life. I shall never tire of them." + +"Where do you sleep?" Phyllis asked. + +"In the fir-trees, to be sure," was the reply. "It is quite warm in +there, among the many branches, and as soon as we waken we can get our +breakfasts. There are all sorts of eggs and sleeping insects among the +fir branches." + +Phyllis looked from her own thick red leggings to the chickadee's light +blue legs. + +"Don't your feet get very cold?" she asked. "You surely need some +leggings." + +The chickadee chirruped and twittered and fluttered until Phyllis +suddenly saw that he was laughing at her. + +"I don't know what cold feet are!" he said. "I'm glad no one gave me +red leggings for Christmas." + +"What did you get for Christmas?" + +"A wonderfully fine dinner spread on a white snow table-cloth under the +cherry-tree!" replied the bird. + +"Oh, did you come to my bird feast?" cried the little girl. "I spread +crumbs and bird seed for you. Jack wanted to hang a meat bone in the +cedar-tree. He said that you would like it better. Indeed, I believe +he did hang one there. Did you ever see it?" + +"Oh, yes, Phyllis, many a day have we pecked away at that meat bone. +It was really very good." + +"Jack read in a book that you were fond of pecking at meat bones. He +will be glad to know that it is true!" + +"Thank him for us," said the chickadee. "You were kind to remember us!" + +"Ah," said Phyllis, "but it was kind of you to remain behind to cheer +us when all the other birds have gone to warmer lands. + +"But, chickadee, though you are so cheery and gay in winter, are you +not really happier in the summer-time?" + +"Oh, we are so busy in summer," the chickadee replied. "Last May I +travelled miles and miles looking for a vacant house." + +"Looking for a vacant house?" cried Phyllis, with wide brown eyes. + +"For housekeeping," said the chickadee. "You see my mate and I had +never kept house before. She was very anxious to find a most suitable +place. + +"My wife said a woodpecker's nest was the very place, but I rather +preferred a squirrel's hole. + +"For a long time we could find neither to suit us. But at length I +heard Mrs. Chickadee calling loudly. I flew to her side at once. + +"'What is it?' I cried. + +"'Look!' cried Mrs. Chickadee, pointing with her bill and flapping her +wings with joy. + +"Through the thick of the woods ran a gray old rail fence. Woodbine +and wild hop vines wellnigh covered it. The posts were gray where they +were not moss-covered. + +"In one of these gray-green posts was a hole where a pair of +woodpeckers had once built their nest. + +"'This is the very place for us!' cried Mrs. Chickadee. 'It could not +be better though we hollowed it out for ourselves.'" + +"Could you?" asked Phyllis, looking at the bird's little short black +bill. + +"If need be, we could, indeed," replied the chickadee. "But we would +far rather find a knot-hole, or a squirrel's or woodpecker's deserted +nest. + +"When we had decided on the spot," the bird went on, "we at once began +lining the nest. We carried fine grasses and soft feathers. We found +mosses and rabbits' fur to make it soft. + +"Those were indeed happy days for us. They were also exciting days. +We were very careful to let no one know what we were about. + +"Once, as I flew home with a bit of moss, I saw a boy lying on the +grass not far from our fence-post. It would never do to let him know +our secret. Boys are not to be trusted. + +"I perched upon the fence and pretended that I had never a thought of +nest building. + +"In a moment Mrs. Chickadee came flying home with a soft, downy +feather. When I called out warningly she at once flew to me. + +"Then the boy called softly to his little sister. + +"'Come quick,' he said, 'if you want to watch these birds build their +nest.' + +"A little dark-eyed girl crept up beside the boy. We scarcely knew +what to do. Soon a bright idea occurred to me. I began to sing my +very best. I also performed my most wonderful tricks. I whirled round +and round. I darted between the rails. I spun about. + +"The children became so interested in my performance that they forgot +to watch Mrs. Chickadee. When they were not looking her way, she flew +to the nest and arranged the feather. + +"When she returned she took my place on the fence. Now my wife and I +look very much alike, and though she cannot perform quite as nimbly as +I, the children did not know when we changed places. + +"While the children watched her I flew to the nest with my bit of moss. + +"'What a pity!' said the little girl, as we flew away laughing to +ourselves. 'They stopped to play and they lost the bits of moss and +feathers with which they meant to make their nest!' + +"'Chick-a-dee! Chick-a-dee! Chick-a-dee!' called back my wife +happily." + +All this time Phyllis's eyes were growing rounder and bigger. + +"Why," said she, "I never knew there was but one bird performing on the +fence. I thought the other flew away!" + +"That was because Mrs. Chickadee and I look so much alike," replied Mr. +Chickadee. + +"But we did find your nest a few days later," said Phyllis. "In it +were six small white eggs covered with tiny red specks. We went to +look at the nest every day until the eggs hatched. Then we went +several times a day until the baby birds learned to fly and left the +nest empty. + +"But you did not disturb us," said the chickadee, "though we were +dreadfully frightened at first." + +At that moment a great soft snowball went plump! against Phyllis's red +cap. + +"Jack!" she cried, scrambling off the fence and running after the boy +with the scratch on his nose. "Jack, take me for a ride on your sled!" + +Then she looked back. The chickadee now sat in the tree-top. + +"Tell Mrs. Chickadee," called Phyllis, "that I shall spread some more +crumbs and seeds on the white table-cloth this afternoon. We'll hang +another bone in the cedar-tree, too!" + +"Chick-a-dee-dee-dee!" cried the little bird in a flutter of delight. + + + + +TWENTY LITTLE CHICKADEES + + Twenty little chickadees, + Sitting in a row; + Twenty pairs of naked feet + Buried in the snow. + I should think you'd fly away + Where the weather's warm, + Then you wouldn't have to be + Out there in the storm. + + Sorry little chickadees, + Don't you know the way? + Can't you find the road to go + Where 'tis always May? + Robins all have found it out, + Wrens and bluebirds too, + Don't you wish you'd thought to ask + Ere away they flew? + + + + +THE SNOWBIRD'S SONG[1] + + The ground was all covered with snow, one day, + And two little sisters were busy at play-- + A snowbird was sitting close by on a tree, + And merrily singing his chick-a-de-dee! + + He had not been singing that tune very long, + When Emily heard him, so loud was his song. + "Oh, sister, look out of the window!" said she, + "Here's a dear little bird, singing chick-a-de-dee! + + "Poor fellow! he walks in the snow and the sleet + And has neither stockings nor shoes on his feet, + I wonder what makes him so full of his glee, + And why he keeps singing, his chick-a-de-dee. + + "If I were a barefooted snowbird, I know, + I would not stay out in the cold and the snow. + I pity him so! Oh, how cold he must be, + And yet he keeps singing his chick-a-de-dee. + + "Oh, mother, do get him some stockings and shoes, + And a nice little frock, and a hat, let him choose. + I wish he'd come into the parlour, and see + How warm we would make him, poor chick-a-de-dee!" + + The bird had flown down for some sweet crumbs of bread, + And heard every word little Emily said. + "How funny I'd look in that costume!" thought he, + And he laughed, as he warbled his chick-a-de-dee. + + "I am grateful," said he, "for the wish you express, + But I have no occasion for such a fine dress. + I'd rather remain with my little limbs free, + Than to hobble about singing chick-a-de-dee. + + "There is One, my dear child, though I cannot tell who, + Has clothed me already, and warm enough, too. + Good morning! Oh, who are so happy as we?" + And away he flew, singing his chick-a-de-dee. + + + +[1] From "The Second Reader--of the Rational Method In Reading." + + + + +HOW THE BIRDS GOT THEIR FEATHERS + +(IROQUOIS MYTH) + +That evening, as the family sat beside the hearth, Phyllis thought of +the brave little chickadees out in the fir-trees. + +"I wonder if they are really warm enough," she said. "Do feathers make +a warm dress, mother? Why do birds have feathers instead of fur?" + +"I have heard the story that the Indians tell of how the birds got +their feathers," said mother. "Bring your chairs closer and I will +tell the story to you." + +So the children drew their chairs up into the firelight, and listened +to this little Indian story: + +"Once some little Indian children," began the mother, "gathered about +the fire inside their deerskin wigwam and begged their mother for a +story. + +"Each little Indian was wrapped in a bright coloured blanket. Each +little Indian wore long turkey buzzard feathers in his hair. + +"The Indian mother looked at her baby braves proudly. She thought of +the time when each of the children was a tiny papoose and swung in a +deerskin cradle like a bird in its nest. + +"'There was a time,' said the Indian squaw, 'when the birds had no +feathers. + +"'Being naked, they remained hidden among the leaves. Being ashamed +they were silent, and no bird-note sweetened the stillness of the +forest. + +"'At last with faint chirpings the mother birds prayed the Great Spirit +for blankets in which to wrap their little ones. + +"'Then the Great Spirit, seeing their sorry plight, sent a messenger to +the birds, who told them that even now coverings were ready for every +bird. + +"'The messenger said that hereafter each family of birds should dress +in uniform, so that the forest people, seeing a bird, might know at +once, by its dress, to what bird family it belonged. + +"'But alas! the messenger also said that the uniforms were a great way +off. He himself could not bring them to the forest. The birds must +choose one who was strong of wing and able to endure great hardships, +to go back with him and bring the uniforms home. + +"'The poor featherless birds looked about for one who was brave and +fearless and untiring. A council was held to induce some bird to go on +this long journey. + +"'But one and all pleaded some excuse. Some must remain to care for +the babes still in the nest. Some were too old to undertake the +journey. Some were too young to find the way. + +"'Some had been ill and were still too weak to travel. Indeed, the +birds seemed to be in as sad a plight as before. + +"'At last there stepped forth a bird, who, truth to tell, was not a +general favourite among his fellows. His name was turkey buzzard. + +"'The bird agreed to undertake the long journey and bring back the +feathery uniforms, if he could choose the most beautiful coat of +feathers for himself and his family for ever. + +"'To this the other birds consented, and the featherless turkey buzzard +flew away. + +"'It was indeed a long and a dangerous journey. Sometimes the poor +bird nearly dropped from weariness and hunger. Sometimes, so hungry +was he, that he was forced to make a meal off from some dead animal +which lay in the way. Indeed so often did he do this that in time he +came to like this food. + +"'It came to pass, after many days, that the turkey buzzard, being +directed by the Great Spirit, found the feathery uniforms. + +"'He at once began to look them over. He intended to choose the most +beautiful coat of feathers for himself and his family. + +"'Soon he found a suit of most gorgeous colours. He tried it on, and +looked at his own reflection in the water. The dress was very +beautiful. Well pleased with himself and his dress the turkey buzzard +gathered up the remaining uniforms and started for home. + +"'But alas! the new dress, although so beautiful, did not fit +comfortably. The poor bird found that he could not fly well in his new +dress. He tried another and still another bright coloured dress, but +in none of them was he comfortable. + +"'At length, quite discouraged, he slipped into a quiet, dark uniform. +Although this suit was the least beautiful it fitted comfortably and +gracefully. In it the turkey buzzard flew away home, and in such +uniform have his family ever since been content to dress. + +"'The turkey buzzards are quite willing to leave the more gorgeous +dresses for those birds who cannot fly so far nor so gracefully as +they.'" + + + + +CHILLY LITTLE CHICKADEES[1] + + Chilly little chickadees, + Sitting in a row, + Chilly little chickadees, + Buried in the snow, + Don't you find it very cold + For your little feet? + Don't you find it hard to get + Anything to eat? + + Hungry little chickadees, + Would you like some bread? + I will give you all you want, + Or some seed, instead, + Anything you like to eat + I will give you free, + Every morning, every night, + If you come to me. + + Jolly little chickadees, + Have you had enough? + Don't forget to come again + When the weather's rough. + Bye, bye, happy little birds! + Off the wee things swarm, + Plying through the driving snow, + Singing in the storm. + + + +[1] From "Songs and Games for Little Ones," by permission of Oliver +Ditson Company, owners of the copyright. + + + + +ALL ABOUT THE CHICKADEE + +SUGGESTIONS FOR FIELD LESSONS. + +Does not go south in winter. + +Song--two or three clear long whistles and the chirping of his own +name, "chickadee." + +A gay, curious little bird. + +Black head and throat--sides of head and neck white--breast grayish +buff--wings and tail darker shade edged with white--larger feathers of +shoulders white. + +Food--seeds and dormant insects or larval eggs.--Valuable as an insect +destroyer. + +Builds in hollow places--usually deserted woodpeckers' or squirrels' +nests--sometimes hollows place for itself. + +Six white eggs speckled with red--young birds, male and female much +alike in colouring. + + + + +ROBIN REDBREAST + +MERRY ROBIN REDBREAST + + "Robin, robin redbreast, + Singing on the bough, + Come and get your breakfast, + We will feed you now. + Robin likes the golden grain, + Nods his head and sings again: + 'Chirping, chirping cheerily, + Here I come so merrily, + Thank you, children dear!'" + +Thus sang Phyllis one morning during the second week in March. + +In the topmost bough of the old apple-tree sat Robin Redbreast, looking +altogether doubtful as to whether he liked the little girl's song. + +But when he saw the grains of wheat which the child was scattering on +the ground for his breakfast, he thought better of his doubt. + +He hopped lower on the branches. He turned his little head on one side +and looked at Phyllis in a very friendly fashion. + +"Come on down!" Phyllis begged. "I am so glad that you have returned. +I am so glad that you came to this very apple-tree and sang so strong +and loud and clear!" + +"Chirp! Chirp!" and the robin hopped again nearer. + +"You see," Phyllis went on, in her coaxing little voice, "my brother +Jack, being a boy, said he would be the one to see the first robin this +year. + +"But I made up my mind that if watchful eyes and careful ears could +help a little girl, I would get ahead of Jack. + +"Sure enough, the first thing I heard this morning was your sweet song. +When did you arrive? Aren't you rather early?" + +By this time the robin was on the ground, pecking away at the grain. +As he ate his breakfast he told his story. + +[Illustration: "By this time the robin was on the ground" (missing from +book)] + +"I have been south all winter long," he said. "It is very lovely in +the southland. Food is plenty, the days are long, and the sunshine is +golden, bright, and warm. + +"But as soon as the spring days came I grew restless. I knew the snow +was beginning to melt and the grass to grow green in my old home +country. I wanted to start north at once. + +"I spoke to my little mate about it, and found her to be as homesick as +I. So we flew north a little earlier than usual this year, and arrived +ahead of the others. We are now quite anxious to get to housekeeping, +and are already looking for a suitable place for a nest." + +"If you will build near us," said Phyllis, "I will help you care for +your little ones. I will give you all the crumbs that you can eat." + +"Oh! oh!" chirped the robin; "you are very kind, Phyllis, but I hardly +think you would know how to feed bird babies. + +"You see our babies are so fond of bugs and worms and all sorts of +insects, that they do not care for crumbs when they can have nice fat +worms. + +"We sometimes feed berries and cherries to our babies. We older birds +often eat fruit, but really we like worms and bugs better." + +"The robins ate all the cherries from the top of our cherry-tree last +year," said Phyllis. + +"Yes, we did eat some of your cherries," admitted the robin. "They +were very sweet and juicy. + +"There are people who say that we robins are a nuisance, and that we +destroy so much fruit that they wish we would never come near them. +The fact is, we do more good than harm to your orchards and berry +patches. Just think how many insects we destroy! If it were not for +us I think much more fruit would be destroyed by insects. And worms +and caterpillars would be crawling everywhere. + +"A robin is a very greedy fellow. He eats nearly all the time. I +could not begin to tell you how many insects I have eaten during my +life. + +"There are cutworms, too, which live underground. During the night +they come out for food. We robins are early risers, and often catch +the slow worms before they can get back to their underground homes." + +"Ah," laughed Phyllis, "that must be the reason that we say that the +early bird catches the worm." + +"When our babies come," said the robin, "we are very busy, indeed. +Those young mouths seem always to be open, begging for more food. + +"My mother says that when I was a baby robin she was kept busy all day +long. + +"There were four baby birds in the nest. I myself ate about seventy +worms in a day. My brother and sisters had as good appetites as I." + +"Will you build here in the apple-tree?" asked Phyllis. "I should so +like to watch you. Besides, there is a garden just beneath with +millions of bugs and insects there." + +"Oh, yes," replied the robin. "We shall surely build there. You will +find that robins like to build near your home. We have a very friendly +feeling towards people. That is the reason that we hop about your lawn +so much and that we waken you by singing near your window in the early +morning." + +"I have heard that robins are not very good nest-builders," said +Phyllis. "I was told that a great number of robins' nests were blown +down by every hard storm." + +"More are destroyed than I like to think about," said the robin. "But +my father and mother raised three families of birds in their nest last +season. + +"Early in the spring they were very busy about their nest-building. +First they brought sticks, straw, weeds, and roots. With these they +laid the foundation in what seemed a very careless fashion, among the +boughs. + +"Then here on this foundation they wove the round nest of straws and +weeds. They plastered it with mud. They lined it with soft grasses +and moss. + +"In this nest my mother laid four beautiful greenish-blue eggs. From +the first egg that cracked open I crept out. From the three other eggs +came my brother and sisters. + +"We were not handsome babies. I don't believe bird babies ever are +beautiful at first. We had no feathers, and our mouths were so big and +yellow. + +"We were always hungry, for we were growing very fast. Our mouths flew +open at every little noise. We thought every sound was the flutter of +our parents' wings. They always brought such fine food for us." + +The robin pecked away at his breakfast for some time before he spoke +again. Then he again took up the story of his life. + +"How well I remember being taught to fly," he said. "How our mother +coaxed us to try our wings. How timid and feeble we were One of my +sisters fell to the ground and a great gray cat caught her. + +"Our wings were very weak then and our feathers were still short. I +then had no beautiful red breast. It was just a rusty looking white +spotted with black. + +"My mother's breast was not so red as my father's. She was of a paler +colour and she sang much less than he. She was a very happy little +mother, however, and she chirped very sweetly to her babies. + +"After we flew from the nest, and were able to look out for ourselves, +my mother laid four more greenish-blue eggs in the same nest. By and +bye four more young robins were chirping about in the garden. + +"Quite late in the season my parents were again nesting. But it was +rather unfortunate that they did so. A great storm came up and a +branch broke from the tree and destroyed the four blue eggs. + +"It was shortly after this mishap that the robins flew south for the +winter. + +"My brother, who was always a brave, cheery fellow, thought he would +rather stay here. I wonder how he fared. I have not yet seen him." + +"I have not seen him lately, but he was here during the winter," said +Phyllis. "I dare say you will find him soon." + +"Well," said the robin, picking up the last grain of wheat, "I thank +you, Phyllis, for this fine breakfast. + +"I will only say 'good morning.' I think you will see me again. +Perhaps I will show you where we build our nest." + +"I am grateful to you," replied Phyllis. "You see the cherry-tree +grows beside Jack's window. You might have sung your morning song +there." + + + + +THE ROBIN'S RED BREAST[1] + +It was very cold in the north country. The ice was thick and the snow +was deep. + +The seal and the white bear were happy. They liked the ice, the snow, +and the cutting north wind, for their fur was thick and warm. + +One night the great white bear climbed to the top of an immense +iceberg. He looked far across the country. The fields of snow and the +beautiful northern lights made the night almost as light as day. + +The white bear saw no living thing save a few fur-clad animals and a +little gray robin chirping cheerily as it picked away at an old bone. + +Again the white bear looked down. Almost at the foot of the iceberg +crouched a hunter and his little son. Between the two a tiny fire was +blazing. + +When the white bear saw the hunter and the boy guarding the fire he +growled terribly. He leaped across from one iceberg to another. He +went into his icy cave still growling. + +"It is the only fire in the whole north country," growled the white +bear to himself. "If I could only put out that fire the land of ice +and snow would be mine. + +"Neither the hunter nor the hunter's son could live, without fire. I +will watch my chance. Perhaps some day I shall be so lucky as to put +the fire out." + +Now the Eskimo night is weeks long. All through the long night the +hunter kept the fire. All through the long night the white bear +crouched near and growled deeply. + +At length the hunter fell ill. The brave little boy kept the fire +burning. He also cared for his sick father. + +The white bear crept closer now, and growled more loudly. + +He longed to jump on the fire with his wet feet and tramp it out. But +he dared not. The boy's bright eyes watched faithfully. The hunter's +arrows were deadly, and the boy's aim was true. + +But by and bye the boy could endure the long watch no longer. His head +drooped. His eyes closed. He slept. + +The white bear's growl sounded like a hideous laugh. The little gray +robin twittered loudly in warning. But the poor tired little fellow +heard neither the white bear's growl nor the gray robin's twitter. + +Then the white bear ran swiftly to the fire. He tramped upon it with +his cold wet feet. He rolled upon it with his cold wet fur. The +cheerful blaze died out. + +When he arose the white bear saw only a little pile of gray ashes. He +laughed so loudly that the boy awoke and snatched up his bow and arrows. + +But the white bear ran away to his cave, still growling laughingly. He +knew that no human being could live in that cruelly cold north country +without fire. + +Now when the white bear was gone, the little gray robin hopped near. +Her chirp was quite sad. She, too, saw nothing but a little heap of +ashes as gray as her own feathers. + +She hopped nearer. She scratched among the ashes with her cold little +claws. She looked eagerly at each cinder with her sharp little eyes. +She found--a tiny live coal. + +It was only the tiniest spark! The least flake of the fast-falling +snow would put it out! + +The little gray robin hovered over it that the cold wind might not +reach the spark. She fanned it softly with her wings for a long, long +time. + +The gray robin hovered so close that the coal touched her gray breast. +As she fanned it glowed larger and redder. Her breast was scorched +quite red, as the coal grew. + +But the robin did not leave until a fine red flame blazed up. + +Then the robin with her poor scorched red breast flew away. She flew +wearily, for she was very tired. Now and again she touched the ground. + +And wherever the robin's red breast touched the earth a fire was +kindled. Soon the whole north country was blazing with tiny fires over +which the Eskimos might cook their food and dry their clothes. + +The white bear crept far, far back into his cave. He growled fiercely. +He knew now that he could never have the north country to himself. + + + +[1] Adapted from Flora J. Cook's "Nature Myths," by permission of A. +Flanigan, Chicago. + + + + +WHICH WAS THE WISER?[1] + +One morning in the early spring a raven was sitting on one of the +branches of an old oak. He felt very ugly and cross, and could only +say, "Croak! Croak!" + +Soon a little robin, who was looking for a place to build her nest, +came, with a merry song, into the same tree. "Good morning to you," +she said to the raven. + +But the raven made no answer; he only looked at the clouds and croaked +something about the cold wind. "I said good morning to you," said the +robin, hopping from branch to branch. + +"You seem very merry this morning about nothing," croaked the raven. + +"Why should I not be merry?" asked the robin. "Spring has come, and +everybody should be glad and happy." + +"I am not happy," said the raven. "Don't you see those black clouds +above us? It is going to snow." + +"Very well," answered the robin, "I shall keep on singing till it +comes, at any rate. A merry song will not make it any colder." + +"You are very silly," croaked the raven. + +The robin flew to another tree and kept on singing; but the raven sat +still and made himself very unhappy. + +"The wind is so cold," he said. "It always blows the wrong way for me." + +Very soon the sun came out warm and bright, and the clouds went away. +But the raven was as sad as ever. + +The grass began to spring up in the meadows. Green leaves and flowers +were seen in the woods. Birds and bees flew here and there in the glad +sunshine. The raven sat alone on the branch of the old oak. + +"It is always too warm or too cold," said he. "To be sure it is quite +pleasant just now; but I know that the sun will soon shine hot enough +to burn one up. Then to-morrow it will be colder than ever before. I +do not see how any one can be so silly as to sing at such a time as +this." + +Just then the robin came back to the tree, carrying a straw in her +mouth. + +"Well, my friend," asked she, "where is your snow?" + +"Don't say anything," croaked the raven. "It will snow all the harder +for this sunshine." + +"And snow or shine," said the robin, "you will keep on croaking. For +my part, I shall look on the bright side of everything, and have a song +for every day in the year." + +Which was the wiser, the raven or the robin? + + + +[1] Permission of American Book Company. + + + + +ALL ABOUT THE ROBIN + +SUGGESTIONS FOR FIELD LESSONS + +One of the first birds to return in the spring--migrates north early in +March--sometimes remains during winter--stays north as late as October +or November. + +Domestic--generally preferring to live near the home of man. + +Song--though short and always the same is in tone wonderfully +expressive of happiness, love, anger, or fear, as the case may be. + +Black head--wings and tail brown--touches of white on throat--entire +breast a rusty red.--Female duller and paler in colouring, growing +almost as bright as the male in the autumn. + +Food--principally insects and worms--does not disdain fruit, berries, +cherries, etc., but prefers insect food--a ravenous eater. + +Nest--outer layer composed of sticks, coarse grasses, etc., seemingly +rather carelessly arranged--on this the rather large round nest is +woven with grasses--plastered with mud--lined with softer grasses. + +Eggs--greenish blue--four in number--young have black spots on +breast--generally two broods reared in a season--sometimes three. + + + + +THE SWALLOW + +[Illustration: The Swallow] + +UNDER THE EAVES + +It was the tenth day of April. Phyllis knew the date because it +chanced to be her birthday. She was just eight years old. + +The sun shone very warm and bright, and the buds were growing big and +red on the horse-chestnut-trees. + +"I shall go down to the brook to look for pussy-willows this +afternoon," said the little girl. + +Phyllis was sitting in the window of the barn loft with the sun shining +full upon her. All was very quiet and the little girl was half asleep. + +Suddenly, with a flash of blue wings and a funny little twitter, a bird +darted right across her face. Phyllis sat up straight, and, leaning +out of the window, looked up at the eaves. + +There she saw the merry twitterer, with several of his companions, who +seemed very busy and very talkative. + +They darted here and there, they skimmed through the air so swiftly +that Phyllis could only catch a gleam of blue. They wheeled and +circled and darted. All the time they twittered, twittered, twittered. + +"What are they up to?" said Phyllis, leaning farther out and looking +more closely. + +For an instant one of the birds clung to the eaves and seemed to be +pecking away at a bit of mud which was stuck to the eaves. + +Phyllis noticed the deeply forked tail of the bird. Its back and wings +and tail were steel blue. Its throat and chest were bright chestnut, +becoming paler near the back of the body. + +"Oh, I know you," laughed Phyllis. "I have no fear of frightening you, +for you are a swallow. + +"How does it happen that you are so fearless? You are scarcely more +afraid of us than our chickens. Why do you build so near our homes? +You are even more tame than the robin!" + +The swallow twittered in a way which made Phyllis feel that he was +laughing at her. He darted so near that had she been quick enough she +might have caught him. + +"We are not afraid of you!" laughed the swallow, darting close again +and then whirling away. + +"What a funny bird!" said Phyllis. + +In a moment the bird was back with a bit of mud in his mouth. He +plastered it up against the rest of the mud under the eaves. Then he +flew again near Phyllis. + +"I suppose there was a time," said the bird, "when all swallows built +their nests on the sides and ledges of caves or cliffs. But that was +hundreds of years ago, before men came and made barns with such +comfortable places for building. + +"To be sure there are swallows to this day who prefer the bank of a +brook or the side of a cave for their nesting-place. But we barn +swallows like the eaves best." + +"You, too, are an early bird," said Phyllis. "Where did you spend the +winter?" + +There was a great twittering among the returning swallows just then and +Phyllis was obliged to wait for a reply. Back came the bird after a +moment. + +"We went south last October," he said. "Late in September we gathered +in great flocks in the marshes. + +"For days we stayed there waiting for the entire company to gather. At +length on one of the blue October days we flew southward. + +"There were hundreds of birds in the flock. We looked like a small +cloud, as we skimmed and darted through the air. As we flew, the flock +was a half mile long. + +"We spent the winter in South America. There are delicious insects +there. But for all that we love the north country best. + +"By and bye Mother Nature whispered to us. She said that it was +nest-building time in the northland. Such a twittering and fluttering +there was when this news came. + +"That very afternoon we started north. Day after day we flew. We met +other great flocks as we travelled, who joined us. + +"Day after day we flew northward. We did not stop to eat, but caught +our food on the wing. + +"Now we lunched on moths and flies. Again we dined on grasshoppers. +Any insect foolish enough to trust itself in the air at the time we +passed served as food. + +"We arrived here only a few days ago. It is not yet very warm, but +here under the eaves on the sunny side of the barn it is quite +comfortable. + +"We are so busy with this nest-building and settling for the summer. +You see we swallows do not live alone. There are always flocks of us +together. + +"We should be lonely if we lived only in pairs. That is the reason +that we build a whole little village of nests under your eaves." + +"You build very queer nests," said Phyllis. "They are neither like the +robin's nor the chickadee's nests." + +"No, indeed, no robin or chickadee could build such nests as the +swallow. You see we make the soft mud from the brookside into little +balls and carry it in our bills. With it we mix straws and grasses. +This holds the clay together. When the outer clay wall is finished we +line the nest with soft grasses and feathers." + +[Illustration: "'No robin or chickadee could build such nests as the +swallow'"] + +"I notice there are a great many chicken feathers in the barnyard. I +shall line my nest with the softest, fluffiest feathers that I can find +there. + +"By and bye my little mate will sit in the dear clay nest and over four +or five or possibly six little eggs." + +"I shall never be able to see them," sighed Phyllis. "They are up so +high. Tell me about them." + +"Oh, my eggs are beautiful," said the swallow. "They are white with +just a little rose tint. They are spotted with fine dots of brown and +purple, and are about three-quarters of an inch long. + +"We shall probably have three broods of birdlings this summer. What a +happy, happy time we shall have!" + +All this time the swallow was darting and wheeling and circling about +Phyllis in a most graceful manner. + +"Are you never still?" asked Phyllis, at last. "I do not believe you +even stop to eat." + +"I do not," said the swallow, darting after a big blue fly. "I eat on +the fly." And then he burst into a giggling twitter. + +"I catch nearly all my food on the wing. No one can complain--as they +do of the robin--of our destroying fruit. + +"We do not care for fruit at all. I would rather have a dozen nice fat +flies than all the cherries in the world!" + +"Well," laughed Phyllis, "I'd rather have a dozen ripe cherries than +all the flies in the world!" + +"Tastes differ," twittered the swallow. + + + + +THE SWALLOWS + +Once upon a time some Eskimo children were playing in the wet clay by +the seashore. They were making tiny toy houses of the clay. These +houses they fastened high on the face of the cliff. + +The children chattered and laughed. They ran gaily to and fro in their +happy play. + +The people of the village heard their merry voices. Their busy mother +paused with her long bone needle between her fingers. She looked up +and smiled at her little ones. + +"How happy my children are to-day!" she said, and she hummed a little +tune to herself. + +"They are very wise children!" said a neighbour. "They say so many +wonderful things. Indeed, they seem to know more of some things than +even the wise men of the village!" + +"Yes, they are quite wonderful," said the mother. "I sometimes listen +to their chatter and watch their nimble little fingers, and I wonder +who taught them all they know." + +"Oh," said another woman, "they do not seem so extraordinary to me. In +fact, they look to me like little birds, flitting about in their dark +dresses." + +"They do look like birds!" said the mother, gazing at the children. + +"I do believe they are birds," said the neighbour. + +"But the voices are my children's voices," said the mother, looking +again in wonder. + +"And they are still building tiny clay houses on the cliffs!" said the +other woman. + +"But those toy clay houses are birds' nests," said the neighbour, "and +those little figures darting back and forth are no longer children. +They have changed to birds!" + +"Yes," said the mother, peering from under her hand. "Yes, those are +birds building their funny clay nests on the cliffs yonder. + +"But the birds have the happy twittering voices of my children. You +were right. They were wonderful children! + +"Ah, well, my only wish is that they may remain near us. They will +cheer us and keep us from becoming lonely!" + +"Surely that is a reasonable wish--since they are your own little +ones," said the neighbour. "I, too, hope that the little birds will +remain near our village!" + +And indeed the mother's wish was granted. Even to this day the little +swallows do not fear man. + +In fact, they still choose to build their nests near the camps of the +people. They still fix their tiny toy houses on the faces of the sea +cliffs. + + + + +ALL ABOUT THE BARN SWALLOW + +SUGGESTIONS FOR FIELD LESSONS + +Comes north about first or second week in April. Remains until late +September or October--builds and travels in flocks or companies--winters +in South or Central America. + +Song--a constant twitter. + +Head and upper parts except forehead steel blue--tail feathers marked +with white--forehead and throat clear chestnut colour--chest and lower +body paler chestnut. + +Food--chiefly insects caught while on the wing. + +Nest--built chiefly of mud--chooses under eaves or cavelike places for +building--mud mixed with grasses and (one authority also asserts) a +sticky saliva from the bird's mouth. + +Eggs--white, tinted a delicate rose, and speckled finely with brown and +purple.--Two or three broods in a season. + + + + +THE HAWK AND THE RAVEN + +[Illustration: The Hawk] + +FROM THE BARNYARD FENCE + +Had not the old hen been such a watchful mother she would never have +been able to care for such a big, fluffy family. + +Had not Phyllis been such a wide-awake little girl, she would have +never heard and seen all that I am about to tell you. + +Mother Speckle was scratching patiently in the barnyard. Now and again +she gave a loud call and her ten little ones ran wildly for the bug or +worm which their mother had found for them. + +Phyllis was just coming into the barnyard with a cup of meal for Mother +Speckle's family, when a strange cry from the old hen startled her. + +Phyllis looked and saw every chick running as fast as its little legs +could carry it to the hovering mother wings. Soon every chicken baby +was hidden from sight and the chicken mother was clucking less loudly. + +"What can be the matter?" cried Phyllis, and then looking up she saw a +hawk circling in the air above. + +She snatched off her hat and waved it wildly at the hawk. At the same +time she shouted as fiercely as she could. + +The hawk soared calmly in the air, rising ever higher and higher. The +mother hen, calling softly to her babies, led the little ones to the +protecting shelter of some low bushes. Then Phyllis sprinkled the meal +and soon the chicken hawk was quite forgotten by Mother Speckle and her +brood. + +But Phyllis still watched eagerly for the hawk. She feared that he +would return. But she could now see nothing of him. + +On the fence post, not far away, sat a big black raven croaking gravely +to himself. + +"You are not a lovely bird either," said the little girl, but the raven +did not hear her. + +When she had crept up very close to the post on which the raven sat, +Phyllis again saw the hawk sailing in wide circles nearer and nearer. + +"Caw! Caw!" cried the raven, rising in the air, high above the barn. +"I, too, can sail about in circles! Caw! Caw! Caw!" + +The hawk said nothing, but quietly settled on the fence post. The +raven still circled in the air, but ever nearer. + +The hawk looked up. The raven wagged his head solemnly and uttered his +sad, harsh cry. He shook out his black feathers and sat down again on +the post. + +"I am called the bird of ill omen," said the raven. "Some people think +that I bring bad luck. Others think I eat too much of their corn. No +one likes me. No one thinks me beautiful. + +"Yet if you will look at my black coat you will see how glossy it is. +My back fairly gleams in the sunlight. Sometimes I catch gleams of +purple and green on my wings. See how soft and loose are the feathers +about my throat. They make a fringe about my neck of which I am +somewhat proud. + +"I do not harm people, and I surely should not be blamed for my +appetite. To be sure, I do eat corn and grain. I also eat grubs, +worms, field mice, in fact anything which comes in my way. + +"I have a home up in the top of the cedar-tree. My nest is round and +firm. It is woven of sticks and grasses and lined with wool which I +myself pick from the sheep's back. + +"We reline the old nest and repair it beautifully every housecleaning +time. + +"My babies are good children, but they do not in fact look much like +me. Perhaps you might think them better looking than their parents. +They are black and white. + +"Their mother says that the raven babies will outgrow the white +feathers soon. She declares that she and I had once as many white +feathers as our babies. It seems hard to believe, but perhaps she is +right. + +"At any rate, they are my children and I do the best I can for them. +To me they are very dear, but I fear they will go through life as +unloved as I! Caw! Caw! Caw!" + +The chicken-hawk ruffled his brown feathers carelessly. He drew in his +breath, making a whistling noise which to Phyllis, hiding so quietly +below, sounded quite like escaping steam. + +"People do not like me either," said the hawk, shrugging his shoulders. +"But for all that I shall not sit and mourn. + +"I know that my feathers are handsome. I know that I am a good husband +and father. I know that I can sail about in the air as gracefully as +any bird in the world. + +"I sometimes eat insects, but I wonder, Mr. Raven, at your fondness for +corn and grain. You should try some of these small birds which are +flying about." + +"I fear--" began the raven. + +"Fear?" cried the hawk, striking out with his strong curved claws. "I +do not know what fear is! Look at my short curved bill! Look at my +sharp claws! Look at my long wings, which can carry me so swiftly and +so far! + +"There is scarcely a bird of the air which does not fear me. They skim +out of sight at my approach. + +"You should see me pounce upon young ducks. It is great fun. +Yesterday I was soaring above the pond, when I saw a whole family of +young ducks out for their first swim. Without a sound I dropped down, +seized one, and bore it off in my claws. I sat in the tree-top to eat +it. It was very tender, but also very small. I decided to have +another. This time the young ducks saw me. They dived head first into +the water. + +"I laughed to myself. I knew that they would soon come up. When in +half a minute one appeared, I was quick enough to catch him. + +"Later I carried a small chicken home to my nest in the big oak on the +hill yonder. My nest is a very simple affair,--just a few crooked +sticks. The lining is of leaves and a few pieces of loose bark which +we picked up. + +"Come and see me sometime, Mr. Raven. I will show my babies to you. +They are wonderful birdlings with bright yellow eyes and bluish bills. + +"Just now I must be off. I see Mrs. Speckle has ventured out from the +bushes again and that little girl with the flapping hat--" + +The little girl and the "flapping hat" sprang up from the fence-corner +with such a shout that the chicken-hawk circled away into the air and +did not return that day. + +The raven flew away, crying sadly, "Caw! Caw! Caw!" Mother Speckle +went on quietly catching bugs for her downy babies. + + + + +THE FIRST HAWK + +During the short Greenland summer the Eskimos live along the seacoast. +They put up their strange skin huts and hunt and fish and make merry +through the season when the sun shines at midnight. + +Now in places along the Greenland coast there are steep high cliffs. +Here the birds which fly farther north in summer make their nests. + +Often, as the Eskimo sits by his campfire, he hears the half-angry, +half-sad cry of "Kea! Kea! Kea!" Looking up then, he often sees a +lonely hawk sitting on the highest, most desolate cliff. + +The Eskimo father laughs when he hears this cry and sees the lonely +bird on the cliff top. Then the little Eskimo children creep nearer to +their father with certainty that a new story is in store for them. + +"Tell us the story of the hawk!" the Eskimo children cry eagerly. + +This then is the story which the Eskimo father tells to his little ones +"in their funny furry clothes." + +"Long, long ago in a tiny Eskimo village, there lived a strange-looking +old woman. Her neck was so short that she really looked as though she +had no neck at all and as though her head was set upon her shoulders. + +"People laughed when they saw the funny-looking old woman. Some were +so unkind as to make fun of her strange appearance. + +"This unkindness made the old woman very unhappy. + +"By and bye the children of the village went every day to the hut of +the old woman to play. + +"They teased and tormented her. If she raised the bearskin curtain at +the doorway and spoke to them they did not heed her. + +"'Short neck! Short neck!' the rude children shouted. Then they stood +and laughed at her. + +"So it came that the poor old woman grew more and more unhappy. To +escape her tormentors she often climbed to the cliff tops and sat on +the edges of high rocks where it was difficult to follow. + +"Here, safe and quiet, she would sit for hours. Sometimes in her +loneliness she raised her arms above her head and cried aloud. + +"The people of the tiny Eskimo village often saw the lonely figure on +the cliffs. They noticed that the old woman stayed less and less in +her little snow hut in the village. + +"Then one morning an Eskimo child, looking up, thought she saw the old +woman sitting as usual on the rocks. But the child's brother said that +he saw only a strange bird with a very short neck. + +"At that moment the bird raised its wings and flapped them above its +head. + +"'Kea! Kea! Kea!' cried the strange new bird. 'Kea! Kea! Kea! who +was it called me short neck?' + +"'Ah,' said the children's father, looking up from his fishing-nets, 'I +think you both were right.'" + + + + +ORIGIN OF THE RAVEN AND THE MACAW + +(ZUNI CREATION MYTH) + +Long, long ago there were but few Indians on the earth. The world was +not as it is now. The earth people did not understand things as they +now understand them. + +It therefore happened that a beautiful Indian prince came to live with +the earth people. + +In his hand he carried a plume stick. It was a magic wand and was +covered with feathers of beautiful colours. + +There were yellow feathers. There were red feathers. There were +blue-green feathers. There were black and white and gray feathers. + +Fastened to this magic wand were also many strange shells and charms +which the earth children did not understand and which the strange +prince did not explain fully. + +"What is this strange plume stick?" asked the earth children. + +"It is the magic wand which tests the hearts of earth children," was +the reply. + +The earth children wondered, but they did not understand. + +"Ah, but show us what you mean!" they cried, eagerly. + +"Look!" replied the strange prince. + +Then amid the plumes and charms of the magic wand there appeared four +round things. + +"They are eggs!" cried the earth children. "Two are blue like the sky. +Two are red-brown like the dust of our own pleasant earth!" + +Then the earth children asked many questions which the strange prince +tried patiently to explain. + +"Now," said the strange prince, "choose whichever eggs you will. By +and bye they will hatch. From them will come birds such as you never +before have seen. From each pair of eggs will come a pair of birds." + +"You who choose the blue eggs shall follow the birds which come from +the blue shells. You and your children and your children's children +shall dwell in the land in which these birds nest. + +"You who choose the red-brown eggs shall follow the birds which come +from the red-brown shells. You and your children and your children's +children shall dwell in the land in which these birds nest!" + +"But which shall we choose?" cried the eager earth children. + +"Nay," said the strange prince, "that I may not tell. But this much +you may know: + +"From one pair of eggs shall come forth beautiful birds. Their +feathers shall be coloured, like the leaves and fruits of summer. They +shall nest in the land of everlasting summer-time and plenty. + +"They who choose those eggs will follow these birds to the beautiful +country of summer-time. The fruits will ripen daily and fall into the +hands of the lucky earth children. Their food will come to them +without labour and they shall know neither hunger nor cold." + +"And what will happen if we choose the other pair of eggs?" + +The strange prince shook his head half sadly and smiled on the earth +children. + +"From the other pair of eggs," he said, "shall come forth birds with +black feathers, piebald with white. This pair will nest in a land +where you may gain food by labour only. + +"Those who follow this pair of birds shall struggle summer and winter. +By long days of toil they shall provide food. By long nights of +watchfulness they shall keep warmth within their homes." + +Then the strange prince ceased speaking. The earth children looked at +each other and forgot to speak. Each looked into the eyes of the other +and asked a question. Each wished to follow the birds which would lead +them to the land of everlasting summer-time and idleness and plenty. + +"Which eggs do you choose?" asked the strange prince. + +"The blue--the blue!" cried the earth children. Then those who were +strongest and quickest pushed forward. + +They fought for the blue eggs, and getting them hurried away with +gladness. + +They buried the blue eggs in the soft loam on the sunny side of the +cliff. They sat down to watch when the young birds should hatch. + +Now there remained those weaker earth children who had been pushed +aside. For them there was no choice. The strange prince gave into +their hand the red-brown eggs. + +The red-brown eggs were placed amid the soft green grasses by the +riverside. The earth children into whose care they were given sat also +by the riverside and waited. + +Sometimes, as they waited for the hatching of the red-brown eggs, they +looked up to the place in the cliff where the stronger ones watched the +beautiful blue eggs. + +Then the weaker ones sighed and turned to the ugly red-brown eggs amid +the grasses. + +By and bye, as those on the cliff waited, they heard faint tappings +inside the blue shells. + +"Ah," they said, "the birds will come soon now. They will lead us to +the land of summer-time." + +When at length the shells burst and the young birds came out, they +looked much as other birds look. They had large mouths and panting +sides and tiny featherless bodies. Soon the pin-feathers appeared. + +"See!" cried the watchers, "now the beautiful plumage is starting!" + +And those by the riverside, hearing the cry, looked up, and looking up +they sighed. The red-brown eggs also were cracking open and the young +birds coming out of the shells. Soon the earth children must follow +their bird leaders. They fed and tended the young birds for still a +few days. + +Then one morning there were sighs and discontent on the cliff. For the +birds which came from the blue shells were feathered and ready for +flight. Their colours were black and white! So also is all the bare +earth and the new-fallen snow! + +It was a pair of ravens, which the stronger earth children followed to +the country where winter follows summer and where men work for food. +As the earth children laboured, the ravens taunted them with hoarse, +laughing cries. + +Now those other earth children who watched the red-brown eggs stood up +by the riverside and smiled. + +From the red-brown eggs had come birds of gorgeous plumage. On the +breath of a sweet-scented breeze they were wafted far to southward--to +the summer land. And those earth children who followed the beautiful +birds still live easily in the land of everlasting summer-time. + + + + +ALL ABOUT THE CHICKEN-HAWK + +SUGGESTIONS FOR FIELD LESSONS + +Voice--sharp, harsh, discordant cries--queer "whistling" noises. + +Upper parts brownish black mixed with white--throat and under tail +coverts white--other under parts having darker markings. + +Bill--short, curved, and very sharp. + +Claws--strong, curved, and very sharp,--middle toe longest. + +Wings--long and pointed--made for rapid flight and long journeys. + +Female larger than male. + +Food--other smaller birds of the air--small ducks and +chickens--occasionally larger insects, snakes, etc. + +Nest in the fork of a tree--made of crooked sticks and lined with +leaves, bark, etc. + +Eggs--two to four in number, bluish white, thickly speckled with brown. + +Iris in young bird's eyes yellow--turning to reddish brown with +maturity. + + + + +ALL ABOUT THE RAVEN + +SUGGESTIONS FOR FIELD LESSONS + +Three times the size of robin. + +Does not migrate, but is usually resident in the place where it can +best provide for itself and family. + +Is glossy black in colour, with gleams of purple and green +above--duller underneath. + +Flies in wide circles high above the tree-tops, and utters a weird, +uncanny cry, which has given it the name of being a bird of ill omen, +and to many people the cry of the raven is deemed a sign of approaching +evil. + +Nest very compactly built of sticks and grasses and lined with wool +from sheep's back. Nest is used year after year, being often relined +and made habitable. + +Young when first hatched are black and white--they however change to +entire black in a very short time. + +Food of the raven is varied, apparently anything edible which comes in +his way--grain, seeds, grubs, worms, field-mice, fruit, are found on +his menu. + + + + +THE KINGFISHER + +OR HALCYON BIRD + + +WITH THE WATER WATCHMAN + +"Please, Jack," begged Phyllis. + +"Girls always talk," replied Jack. + +"I will not say a word to you--indeed I will not." + +"Well, if you spoil my fishing--" began Jack. + +"And I'll pick thimbleberries for our lunch," said Phyllis, eagerly. + +So it happened that a small girl in a great sunbonnet followed a small +boy with a still larger straw hat and a fishing-pole and line, out of +the back gate and down the lane. + +True to her promise, Phyllis said nothing, but trudged along behind +Jack with wide open, watchful brown eyes. + +By and bye the children came to a pond of shining, clear water. How +still everything seemed, how brightly the sun shone! + +"Now if you talk you'll scare the fish," said Jack, with an air of +great importance. + +"I will not talk," Phyllis whispered back, shutting her lips very +tightly and sitting down beside her brother with a little sigh. + +Jack threw his line--Phyllis watched with awe. They sat for a moment +waiting for a "bite." + +Then Jack jerked the line up sharply, not so much because he thought he +had caught something, as because he hoped he would catch something. + +"I don't believe there are any fish here," he grumbled at last. + +But Phyllis's bright eyes had caught sight of something and she forgot +all about the fishing and her resolve not to speak. + +"Look!" she cried, pointing to a fallen tree-trunk which hung over the +water. + +On a branch sat a bird. He was considerably larger than a robin. + +[Illustration: "On a branch sat a bird. He was considerably larger +than a robin"] + +On the top of his head was a tall crest, which reached to the nape of +his neck. + +His back and the entire upper part of his body was blue. His wings and +short tail bore spots and bars of white. + +The lower part of his body was white and across his breast ran two +bands of blue. + +"His bill is longer than his head!" laughed Phyllis. "What a funny big +head and what funny little feet! Who is he, Jackie?" + +"A kingfisher!" Jack replied. + +"What is he doing?" asked Phyllis. + +"Fishing," said Jack, shortly. + +In a moment Jack spoke again. + +"There must be fish here if Mr. Kingfisher is on the lookout. He is a +famous old fisherman. He could not live without fish to eat. Did you +notice the white spot above each eye?" + +Encouraged by the sight of the other fisherman, Jack again cast his +line and waited for a bite. + +Phyllis watched the bird. Suddenly it seemed to drop from the branch. +It dived into the water. + +There was a great flutter and splash--a struggle. Then the bird in the +blue and white uniform perched again on the old branch. + +The children watched eagerly. + +In the bird's strong bill was a scaly, glittering fish. It wriggled +and flopped helplessly, but could not escape. + +The bird held the fish firmly in its strong grasp, raised his head and +struck the fish three or four sharp knocks against the branch. Then +the fish wriggled no longer. + +"He can never swallow that big fellow!" cried Jack, forgetting his own +fishing. "I have seen kingfishers swallow minnows alive and whole, but +that fish is too large for him to manage!" + +The bird, however, seemed to think that he could "manage" it. He +started to swallow the fish. When it was half-way down his throat it +stuck. + +With much sputtering and gagging the bird brought the fish up again. +But he must have his dinner, and not in the least discouraged, tried +again. + +He gagged and writhed. The scales and fins stuck in his throat. Up +came the fish again. + +Four--five times he struggled to swallow the fish. Five times he +failed to succeed. Five times the fish-scales glittered again in the +sunlight. Such strange wrigglings and twistings the bird made. + +"The poor fellow is having an unhappy time with his lunch," laughed the +children. + +At the sixth effort the fish was safely landed in the bird's stomach. + +With a flash of blue wings he circled through the air. He gave a noisy +rattling cry as he alighted on a branch nearer to the children. + +Again the bird watched the water intently. Again he dived like a +flash. Again he bore a fish to the surface and killed it by striking +it against the tree. + +But this time the kingfisher did not swallow the fish. He rose with it +in his bill and flew gracefully away. + +The children watched for some time, but the strange blue bird did not +return. Then Jack turned again to his fishing. + +"I thought you were to furnish the thimbleberries for lunch," he said. + +"So I shall," Phyllis replied, snatching up her basket and starting off +in the direction of some bushes which she could see. + +So Jack was left to his fishing and Phyllis went berrying. + +Sure enough the bushes proved to be loaded with beautiful ripe berries. +Soon the little fingers were stained quite purple and the little basket +was half filled with berries. + +As she started to return to her brother, Phyllis passed along the foot +of a high bank. She was singing softly to herself when she heard the +rattling cry of the kingfisher quite near. + +He gracefully swung into sight on wide-spread wings. He bore another +fish in his strong bill. + +When he saw Phyllis he stopped short and held himself perfectly still +in the air while he looked at her. + +At length, deciding that she was harmless, he circled past the little +girl and entered a small hole on the face of the bank. + +"Why!" said Phyllis. "I wonder why he has gone in there. I shall wait +for him to return." + +So Phyllis waited until the bird came out. Then she held out her +basket of berries. + +"Will you have some of my berries?" she said. "I'm sure that your +throat must be sore from the scratching of those fish-scales. You had +to try so many times before you got it down. Tell me, did this last +fish also stick in your throat?" + +The kingfisher "chuckled" deep down in his throat. + +"I do not eat berries," he said. "I usually eat fish. I sometimes eat +large insects or shrimps, but I love to fish." + +"So does my brother," said Phyllis, politely, glancing at Jack sitting +motionless on a rock in the sunshine. + +"Why did you go into that hole to eat?" + +The kingfisher chuckled again. + +"That is my nest," he said. "My wife is in there. I took the fish to +her. She can fish quite as well as I, but our eggs are just hatching +and she dare not leave them." + +"That a bird's nest?" cried Phyllis. "Who made it?" + +"Mrs. Kingfisher and I did," was the reply. "We found this fine steep +bank when we came from the south in March. + +"I began the nest myself. I held myself still in the air before the +bank just as I did when I first noticed you. Then I drove my beak into +the soft bank with quick plunges. How the clay rattled and rolled and +splashed into the water below! + +"It was but a very short time before I had a foothold on the bank. +Mrs. Kingfisher and I worked very quickly. Soon we dug ourselves out +of sight." + +"But how do you dig--" + +"Oh, just look at my bill, Phyllis. With it I loosen the earth. With +my feet I scratch the dirt out in a perfect shower behind me. Our +tunnel is so narrow that we could not turn around in it." + +"How deep is it?" asked the little girl, pushing back her big hat and +peering in. + +The kingfisher did not seem to hear her. He just went on with his +story. + +"Perhaps a little less than two feet from the outside we made a turn to +the right. After that we were obliged to bring the earth out in our +beaks. + +"Two could not work at once. While I worked at the tunnel Mrs. +Kingfisher fished. While she worked, I fished. At last the tunnel was +eight feet long. + +"'That is a very safe distance,' said Mrs. Kingfisher to me. 'Let us +dig no more, but make our nest here at the end of the tunnel.' + +"We built a wonderful nest," the bird went on, "a fine prickly nest for +our little ones. We did not line it with feathers and moss. We +carefully arranged a pile of fish-bones and scales at the farthest end +of the tunnel. On these bones and scales my wife laid six white eggs. +Already four little baby kingfishers have pecked their way out of the +white shells. The others will be out soon. + +"I must be off about my fishing. Mrs. Kingfisher and I will both be +very busy now catching minnows for those blue babies of ours." + +With another chuckle and rattle the kingfisher flew away to his fishing +station over the pond. + +Phyllis picked up her basket of berries and returned to the spot where +Jack still sat patiently holding his pole. + +"Oh, Jack--" Phyllis began. + +"Sh-h-h-h!" whispered Jack. "You promised not to talk. You'll scare +the fish away. Girls always talk." + +"I'm sorry," said Phyllis. "How many have you now?" + +"None--but I've had a nibble several times. I think they'd bite better +if the sun would go under a cloud." + +"Let's eat our lunch now," begged Phyllis. "Perhaps there'll be some +clouds by the time we finish." + +As they ate Phyllis told her brother about the kingfisher's nest and +babies. When they finished the sky was as blue as ever. + +"These are halcyon days," said Jack, looking very wise. + +"Wh-a-a-t--?" said Phyllis, wholly puzzled and half frightened at the +new word. + +"Well, you see father told me about them the other day when we were +fishing in this same place. + +"It seems that long ago when people were not very wise, they believed +all sorts of queer things. They told strange stories about the things +which they did not understand. + +"In those days kingfishers were called halcyons. Some said these birds +made nests which floated on the sea. + +"As long as these eggs or birdlings were in the nest, the people said, +the sea would remain smooth and the weather fair. + +"Ever since then, when we hear any one speak of 'halcyon days,' we know +that they mean pleasant happy days." + +"Then," laughed Phyllis, "this has been one of the 'halcyon days' even +though you failed to catch any fish." + +Then two tired little people trudged home through the river reeds and +down the lane. + +On their way the blue kingfisher flashed by, chuckling harshly deep +down in his throat. + + + + +THE HALCYON BIRDS + +That evening Phyllis opened a new book and on almost the first page she +saw something about the halcyon birds. + +"Perhaps it is Jack's story," she said. Then she curled herself up on +the soft sofa and this is the story she read. + +In the beautiful long ago, in the wonderful country of Greece there +lived a king, wise and just and peaceful. His people loved him. + +The king lived in a marble palace on the top of a low hill. With him +lived his wife, the lovely Queen Halcyone. + +But though the king was wise and just and good, his heart was sad. +There was unrest in the land. Troubles were rife in Greece. + +At length one day the king came to the room where Queen Halcyone sat +with her maids. They were spinning carefully and happily together. + +"My Halcyone--my queen," said the king, "as you know, I am greatly +troubled and disturbed. I do not know what is the best thing for me to +do. I must seek wise advice from the gods." + +Queen Halcyone dropped her distaff and looked in fear at the king. + +"I must go," said the king to Halcyone, "on a long journey across the +seas. As you know, in the Temple of Apollo there is a wise oracle. To +this oracle must I go in search of counsel." + +Then the lovely Queen Halcyone's heart was filled with sorrow. She +feared that harm might come to the king, whom she loved for his +goodness and his kindness. + +Halcyone fell on her knees before the king. She begged him to postpone +this terrible journey across the seas. + +"Indeed," cried she, "there are cruel dangers, O my king! The journey +is long and wearisome. Remain at home with me!" + +The king smiled pityingly upon his lovely queen. He kissed her gently +before he answered. + +"It seems to me," he said, sadly, "that there is no other way. I must +go." + +"Ah, then, I pray, take me also. Let me share the dangers and the +weariness." + +"You could not--" the king began. + +"In truth it would be easier far than to bear the loneliness and dread +when you are gone. It would be weary waiting for your return!" + +Now the king loved Halcyone. He longed to remain at home with her. +But already the boat lay ready for departure--and there was no place +for Halcyone. + +Already the oarsmen sat at their benches ready to row away. So the +king bade Halcyone farewell and stepped on board and quickly pushed off. + +With bitter tears Halcyone stood on the bank and watched the king's +boat push out from shore. + +When it looked but a speck she shaded her eyes with her hand and still +watched. But when in the purple distance the tiny speck could no +longer be seen, Halcyone turned with a sigh to the marble palace and +her maidens. + +On and on across the waters the little boat sped. For a time all went +well. At night the stars shone. In the morning the sun arose from the +blue waters and travelled across a cloudless sky. Gentle winds blew, +filling the sails and pushing the little boat quietly on its way. + +But one day a change came over the sea. The moaning of the wind was +heard. Dark clouds scurried across the sky. + +The waves rose high and broke in white crests of foam. The rain poured +down. The wind crept up and sprang upon the little boat with fury. + +For a time the boat rose and fell with the waves. It pitched and +rolled and reeled. Great waves splashed over it, washing the oarsmen +overboard. + +The masts were torn away. At last the little boat, buried in the +trough of the wave, sank beneath the water. + +The king and all his crew lay buried deep beneath the deep blue sea. + +Weeks passed. Months passed. A year went by. + +Queen Halcyone wandered restlessly up and down the shore. With weary +eyes she watched the purple distance. But the king did not return. + +She prayed to the gods that they would guard and protect the king whom +she loved so dearly. She went to the sacred altars of her country, and +burned incense there. + +When the goddess Juno heard the prayers and saw the tears of the lovely +Queen Halcyone, she was sad for her. Juno called to her side the +beautiful rainbow messenger, Iris. + +"Iris," said Juno, "this night I wish you to go down on your rainbow +bridge to the god of dreams. + +"Ask him to send to Halcyone a dream which shall tell her of the fate +of her husband, the king. It is better that she should know what has +befallen him whom she loved than to wander thus in uncertainty." + +So Iris, the beautiful messenger, swept down to the god of dreams--and +that night Halcyone dreamed that the king came to her and told her his +story. He told her how the boat and all therein had long since been +buried under the sea. + +"Be brave, my Halcyone," said the shade of the dead king. "Be brave +and patient, and soon perchance, if the gods will, thou shalt come to +me in the land of shades." + +When the dream left her, Halcyone sprang from her couch and ran again +to the seashore. She stretched out her arms and called aloud to +Aeolus, the father of the winds. + +"O great father Aeolus," she prayed, "give me wings so large and strong +that they will carry me to the spot where the king now lies. + +"Hear me, Aeolus! Hear Halcyone, thy child!" + +And as she prayed, lo, she rose slowly into the air. The folds of her +blue robe enwrapped her. + +Halcyone floated out across the sea. Again and again her breast +touched the white crest of the waves and left its foam on her throat +and on the bosom of her dress. + +On and on she sped across the billowy waters. Her wings were firm, +strong, untiring. + +At last, floating upon the water she spied the form of the king. With +a hoarse rattling in her throat she called to him. + +With her strong wings outspread, Halcyone hung motionless above the +king. Those broken cries came again and again from her throat. + +And Juno, looking down from her cloudland home, saw Halcyone kneeling +on the waves beside the dead king. She leaned down from her place in +the heavens and touched the king's forehead. + +Lo! there rose from the water two strong-winged birds in dresses of +blue and white. + +"Ah," sighed Aeolus, "let us call them the halcyon birds, for the +lovely Halcyone, whose love did not fail her. + +"Let these birds live ever beside the waters and rear their young in +peace and quiet. + +"Behold, when Halcyone broods over her little ones I will hold my winds +in check. The waters shall be quiet and the sun shall shine merrily. + +"And these days of peace and quiet and happiness shall be called +'halcyon days,' for ever." + + + + +ALL ABOUT THE KINGFISHER + +SUGGESTIONS FOR FIELD LESSONS + +Comes north in early March--remains until December, often throughout +the year. + +Song--harsh, discordant, laughing chuckle or rattle--never musical. + +Upper parts blue--wings and tail with white markings--lower parts white +with two blue bands across breast--bluish tinge on sides--a white spot +in front of each eye.--Head large and crested--bill longer than +head--feet small. + +Food--principally fish which it obtains by diving and kills by striking +against a tree if large, or swallows alive if small.--This food +supplemented by larger insects, shrimps, etc. + +Nest--tunnelled out of bank--six to eight feet deep--at the extreme end +of tunnel is the nest made of fish-bones and scales. + +Eggs--pure white--four to six in one brood. + + + + +THE RED-HEADED WOODPECKER + +[Illustration: Woodpecker] + +IN CAP OF RED + +Phyllis sat in her own room, rocking her doll to sleep. The window was +open and the curtain flapped idly in the breeze. + +Presently into the room darted a bird. He was beautifully dressed. +His soft gray uniform was spotted and barred with white. + +He did not seem in the least alarmed when he found himself in the room +with Phyllis. He perched on the window-ledge and did not even glance +at the little girl. + +In a moment he flew to the ledge above her door. With his strong +little bill he began to rap, rap, rap at the wood. + +"You act like a woodpecker, but you do not look like one," said Phyllis. + +"That shows that you do not know all about woodpeckers," said the gray, +downy bird. "I belong to the family of red-headed woodpeckers." + +"You?" cried Phyllis, amazed. "But where is your red cap, and where is +your white vest, and where is your black coat? You are trying to fool +me, my friend." + +"My father and mother have crimson heads and necks and throats. They +have white breasts. They have black backs and wings and tails. When +they fly, the broad white bands on the wings are quite plain to be seen. + +"My home nest is that in the trunk of the old oak by the gate." + +"It is very queer," said Phyllis. "Perhaps some other bird laid an egg +in the woodpeckers' nest by mistake." + +The small bird fluttered quite helplessly with laughter. + +"Oh, no, Phyllis, I see I have to tell you all about it. I am a +woodpecker, surely. But I am quite young yet. It is not a week since +I had my first lesson in flying." + +"You fly very well for a young bird," said Phyllis. + +"Well, my mother is very wise," said the bird. + +"She does not think it well for her babies to get out of the nest until +they have grown quite large. She says that if we wait until our wings +are strong we will not be so apt to fall into danger. + +"So I remained inside the nest until I was quite a large, strong bird. +Then my parents called me out and taught me to fly. + +"Only yesterday I asked my mother why I did not wear a dress and cap +like her own. + +"She said, 'Wait a little longer, my child. When you are quite grown +your cap will be as red as my own. You will look so much like your +father and me that those children down there will be unable to tell us +apart.' + +"It is little wonder that you did not know me for a woodpecker in this +simple gray dress. All woodpecker children, however, dress in this +quiet fashion at first. I shall be happy when I get my gorgeous red +cap." + +"Well," said Phyllis, "I am very glad you came to see me. I knew there +was a nest in the old oak-tree. I watched your father and mother one +whole morning a few weeks ago. I think they chose the oak because of +those old dead branches. + +"I saw your mother brace herself against the tree with her stiff tail. +Then how her wedge-shaped bill rapped and rapped against the wood. For +fully twenty minutes she rapped away at the rotten wood. Then she grew +tired and your father took her place at the tree-trunk. + +"Soon they pecked a hole deep enough to hide them from sight, but their +constant rap, rap, rap could still be heard. + +"I wondered how deep they made the hole, but it was too high for me to +climb to find out." + +"Having just come from the nest I can tell you all about it," replied +the young woodpecker. "My parents dug down into the soft trunk to a +depth of perhaps eighteen inches. At the bottom they hollowed out a +large roomy place for the nest. They did not line it with feathers or +grasses. Instead of a bed of moss was a little sawdust and the smooth +white sides of the oak. + +"In this nest my mother laid six pure white eggs. She sat on them and +kept them warm until at last six downy birds came out of the shells. + +"We were hungry little things. Both our mother and father were kept +busy filling our greedy, ever-open mouths. + +"And whatever they brought was sure to be very nice. Sometimes it was +a cherry or a berry, sometimes a bit of pear or apple. + +"But, best of all, were the fat, juicy little grubs which they often +brought. + +"I asked my father where he got the grubs. He made fun of me and +called out to my mother in his shrill, lively way. + +"She said that that was a thing which every young woodpecker should +find out for himself. + +"After that, every time a fat grub was brought to me, I wondered if I +should ever be able to find them when I began to shift for myself. + +"At last my wings were strong enough and my parents called me out of +the nest. I very soon found that the fat grubs lived beneath the bark +of my own oak-tree. All I had to do was to strike my bill into the +bark and bear off the prize." + +"Were you sorry to leave your safe high nest?" asked Phyllis. + +"Indeed it was not so safe," said the young woodpecker. "On the day +that I left the nest a great black snake crept in. He swallowed my +little brothers and sisters. + +"My parents were wild with grief. They said that was the thing they +always dreaded, that such things often happened in woodpeckers' nests." + +"How sad!" said Phyllis. "I should never have thought of snakes!" + +"They are our greatest danger," was the reply. "Squirrels sometimes +come in and steal the nuts and corn we have stored away, but the snake +is the most to be feared." + +"So you store away food?" Phyllis asked. "Do you stay here in the +winter, then?" + +"Oh, yes, we often stay all winter. Have you not seen us flying about +among the trees in the winter-time?" + +By this time the bird sat on the window-sill. + +"Must you go?" asked Phyllis. "Here is a strawberry for you." + +"Thanks," said the bird, pecking away at the fruit. "I am just off to +the corn-field. My father showed me this morning how to open the husks +of the green corn to get at the rich, milky kernels inside." + +"When you get your red cap, come back," cried Phyllis, and the young +woodpecker's lively cry answered from the corn-field. + + + + +A LEGEND OF THE NORTHLAND[1] + + Away, away in the Northland, + Where the hours of the day are few, + And the nights are so long in winter + They cannot sleep them through; + + Where they harness the swift reindeer + To the sledges, when it snows; + And the children look like bears' cubs + In their funny, furry clothes; + + They tell them a curious story-- + I don't believe 'tis true; + And yet you may learn a lesson + If I tell the tale to you. + + Once, when the good Saint Peter + Lived in the world below, + And walked about it, preaching, + Just as he did, you know, + + He came to the door of a cottage, + In travelling round the earth, + Where a little woman was making cakes + And baking them on the hearth; + + And being faint with fasting, + For the day was almost done, + He asked her from her store of cakes + To give him a single one. + + So she made a very little cake, + But as it baking lay, + She looked at it, and thought it seemed + Too large to give away. + + Therefore she kneaded another, + And still a smaller one, + But it looked, when she turned it over, + As large as the first had done. + + Then she took a tiny scrap of dough, + And rolled and rolled it flat; + And baked it as thin as a wafer-- + But she couldn't part with that. + + For she said, "My cakes that seem too small, + When I eat them myself, + Are yet too large to give away." + So she put them on the shelf. + + Then the good Saint Peter grew angry, + For he was hungry and faint; + And surely such a woman + Was enough to provoke a saint. + + And he said, "You are far too selfish + To dwell in a human form, + To have both food and shelter, + And fire to keep you warm. + + "Now, you shall build as the birds do, + And shall get your scanty food + By boring, and boring, and boring, + All day in the hard dry wood." + + Then up she went through the chimney, + Never speaking a word, + And out of the top flew a woodpecker, + For she was changed to a bird. + + She had a scarlet cap on her head, + And that was left the same, + But all the rest of her clothes were burned + Black as a coal in the flame. + + And every country schoolboy + Has seen her in the wood; + Where she lives in the trees till this very day, + Boring and boring for food. + + And this is the lesson she teaches: + Live not for yourself alone, + Lest the needs you will not pity + Shall one day be your own. + + Give plenty of what is given you, + Listen to pity's call; + Don't think the little you give is great, + And the much you get is small. + + Now, my little boy, remember that, + And try to be kind and good, + When you see the woodpecker's sooty dress, + And see her scarlet hood. + + You mayn't be changed to a bird, though you live + As selfishly as you can; + But you will be changed to a smaller thing-- + A mean and a selfish man. + + --Phoebe Cary. + + + +[1] Used by permission of and special arrangement with Houghton, +Mifflin & Co. + + + + +ALL ABOUT THE WOODPECKER + +SUGGESTIONS FOR FIELD LESSONS + +Comes north in May--often stays all winter--most commonly seen in the +fall. + +Song--shrill, lively call resembling the voice of the tree-frog. + +Male and female have crimson head and neck--upper parts black with +white marking--white band across wings--most conspicuous when bird is +in flight. + +Lower parts white--bill wedge-shaped, strong, and sharp--tail strong +and stiff, used as a brace when clinging to a tree-trunk and tapping +with bill--toes arranged two in front and two behind for better support +in clinging to tree trunks, etc. + +Young birds resemble the parents, except that in colour they are a +mottled gray. + +Food is largely fruit--green corn, nuts, and larval insects procured +from tree-trunks.--Sometimes stores away nuts, etc. + +Place chosen for nest is usually a rotting tree, which is easier to +bore.--Hollow from fifteen to eighteen inches deep.--Eggs pure white, +generally six in number. + + + + +THE LARK + +[Illustration: Larks] + +IN THE MEADOW + +If Jack's big black dog, Nero, had not chanced to snatch Phyllis's rag +doll by the head and run away with it this story would have never been +written. + +You see, Nero bounded straight across the meadow and Phyllis, fearing +that she would lose the doll, ran shrieking after him. + +Nero was only playing, and soon dropped the doll and ran off. Phyllis +regained her property and started to return, when a bird rose from the +grass at her feet with a queer whirring sound. + +Phyllis looked up at the bird and then down to the spot from which it +had flown. + +In another moment she would have stepped in the nest. This meadow +lark's nest was unlike any other Phyllis had found. Indeed, it could +scarcely be called a nest at all. + +But when she looked at it Phyllis thought what a wise little bird the +meadow lark must be to choose such a place for the nest. + +Had Phyllis not chanced upon it in just the way she did she might have +looked all day long and not discovered it. + +The nest was flat upon the ground. Around it and over it arched the +tall meadow grasses. The nest itself was made of grass--it seemed to +Phyllis that it was made in a somewhat careless manner, and that the +eggs might easily roll out upon the ground. + +There were four beautiful oval eggs in the nest--the largest birds' +eggs Phyllis had as yet discovered. They were over an inch long, and +were of a beautiful rosy white colour, speckled closely with reddish +brown spots. + +As Phyllis sat very still, the mother bird crept softly back to her +home. She carefully settled herself on the grassy nest and with her +bill tenderly tucked the eggs under her soft feathers. + +"How careful you are!" exclaimed Phyllis. "No fear of your breaking +the eggs." + +The brown bird rose up quickly in fright and looked uncertainly toward +the fence. Phyllis thought to see her whirr off again. + +"Oh, don't go," she cried. "I will not harm you! Truly I will not +disturb you!" + +The meadow lark looked again toward the fence, and then settled herself +once more over her precious eggs. + +"Why do you look toward the fence so often?" asked Phyllis. + +"Do you not see that bird perched upon the fence?" asked the meadow +lark. + +"Yes," Phyllis answered, "what is he doing there?" + +"He is our sentinel," said the meadow lark. "He is on the lookout for +danger. When he gives the alarm, the rest of the flock know there is +danger near. + +"When we hear the sentinel's alarm we are off in an instant. We fly +high into the air. Did you not notice how I hovered near the +grass-tops for a moment and then rose high into the air?" + +"Yes," answered Phyllis, "and I knew that you were a lark because of +that whirring sound you made when flying." + +"Ah, but I am not really a lark at all," said the bird. "I am called +the meadow lark, but in truth I belong to the blackbird family. The +red-winged blackbird is an own cousin of mine. So also is the oriole, +who builds a queer hanging nest in the tree-tops. + +"The oriole is very proud of her woven nest, but I should consider it a +dangerous place for bird babies. My little ones will never be hurt by +falling from their nest. + +"Neither can I imagine how any bird can dare to build in such an open +place. + +"My home is hidden here amid the grasses. Sometimes we find places +like this, where the grass blades naturally arch over and hide the nest. + +"Sometimes we weave a sort of arch over the nest with the downy, fine +fibres from the grass leaves. + +"Did you notice the little lane down which I returned to my tiny home?" + +"No," said Phyllis, "I thought you just came through the grasses by the +easiest way." + +"If you will look closely," said the meadow lark, pecking away at her +own brown feathers, "if you look very, very closely, you will see the +tiny path which leads directly to my door." + +Phyllis leaned down and peered very curiously among the grass stems. +Sure enough, there was a tiny winding path, almost hidden from sight. +It led directly to the meadow lark's nest. + +"You are a very wonderful little bird," she cried. + +"I shall have some very wonderful babies one of these fine days," said +the meadow lark, proudly. + +"How safely they will be hidden from danger," said Phyllis. + +"Well," said the mother bird, shaking her head, sadly, "I am very sure +that I build in a safer manner than my cousins. But, alas, even meadow +larks are not free from danger." + +"I might have stepped on your nest?" said Phyllis. + +"Yes," said the bird, "but what makes me fear most are the field-mice +and the snakes. They make great havoc in our nests when they discover +them. Many a tiny fledgling has been swallowed by a great creeping, +crawling snake. Many a beautiful egg has been eaten by the hungry +little field-mice." + +"I hope no harm will come to your little home," said Phyllis. "I +notice one thing which you have for a protection from harm." + +"What is that?" asked the meadow lark. + +"It is your colour." + +The meadow lark raised her head in gentle surprise. + +"And what has my colour to do with my danger?" she asked. + +"Why," said the little girl, feeling wondrous wise, "do you not see +that the browns of your feathery dress are the same colours as the +grass stems and the stubble amid which you brood and feed?" + +"Why, so it is," said the meadow lark. "My back is brown, edged with +brownish white. That is like the grass stems. I am streaked with +black and brown and cream colours. That is like the blades of grass. + +"My throat and breast are yellow like the stubble amid which I feed. +You are wonderfully wise, Miss Phyllis." + +"What a beautiful black crescent you have upon your breast," said +Phyllis. "It was almost the first thing I noticed when I met you." + +"Did you observe the dark brown lines on my head? They seem to cross +my eyes." + +"I think you are quite beautiful," said Phyllis. + +"Ah, but you should see my mate," said the meadow lark. "He is much +more beautiful than I. My feathers seem pale and faded when I walk +beside him. When fall comes, however, my own colours will brighten." + +"On what shall you feed your little ones?" + +"When I tell you, you will see again that I am wise in choosing this +place for a nest. + +"My babies need never grow hungry, for the grass seeds are always +falling. The beetles and worms and ants are always walking by. The +moths and the butterflies are for ever laying their eggs in all sorts +of convenient places. You remember how their eggs do not hatch out +into butterflies and moths at once. They are just ugly little worms +called grubs." + +"Yes," said Phyllis, "I remember." + +The meadow lark carefully tucked an egg farther under her soft brown +feathers. + +"I am glad," she said, "that my eggs do not hatch out as grubs. +Perhaps if they did, I should care no more for my babies than the +butterfly does for hers. I am told that she does not even know her own +children." + +"You are quite right," said Phyllis. "She herself told me so." + +The meadow lark gave a low whistle and nervously flitted her tail, +showing the white feathers with which it was edged. + +"It has been some time since I have heard your clear, sweet whistle," +said Phyllis. "I thought you must have left our meadow. You have a +most beautiful voice." + +"Oh, no, we shall not soon leave your meadow, Phyllis. In the autumn +we may join a party of larks and take our family to the marshes for +awhile, but we shall return. Meadow larks do sometimes go south for +the winter, but usually they live their lives in their home meadows." + +"Then you will sing for me again?" asked the little girl. + +"Oh, with pleasure," said the meadow lark. + +"You remember how we used to sing in the spring? Just now our thoughts +are so taken up with our nesting that we have little time for song. +But later, when the little ones are able to care for themselves, I +shall gladly whistle to you once more." + +"I shall listen for you," said Phyllis. "Just now I must go, for I +hear my mother's voice. Good-bye, meadow lark!" + +And the meadow lark from her nest whistled a low good-bye. + + + + +THE SONG OF THE MERRY LARK[1] + +Once there was an old gray pussy, and she went down into the meadow, +where she saw a merry lark flying among the tall reeds; and pussy said, +"Where are you going, little lark?" + +And the merry lark answered, "I am going to the king to sing him a song +this fine May morning." + +And pussy said, "Come here, little lark, and I'll let you see a pretty +ring round my neck." + +But the lark said, "No, no, gray pussy; no, no! You worried the little +mouse, but you shall not worry me." + +Then the lark flew away till he came to a high oak-tree, and there he +saw a gray, greedy hawk sitting. And the gray, greedy hawk said, +"Where are you going, pretty lark?" + +And the lark answered, "I am going to the king, to sing him a song this +fine May morning." + +And the gray, greedy hawk said, "Come here, little lark, and I'll let +you see a pretty feather in my wing." + +But the merry lark said, "No, no, gray, greedy hawk, no, no! You +pecked at the little linnet, but you shall not peck at me." + +Then the lark flew away till he came to the side of a rock, and there +he saw a sly fox sitting. And the sly fox said, "Where are you going, +sweet lark?" + +And the lark answered, "I am going to the king, to sing him a song this +fine May morning." + +And the sly fox said, "Come, little lark, and I'll let you see a pretty +white spot on the tip of my tail." + +But the lark said, "No, no, sly fox; no, no! You worried the little +lamb, but you shall not worry me." + +Then the merry lark flew away till he came to the garden of the king; +and there he sat among the red clover blossoms and sang his sweetest +song. + +And the king said to the queen, "What shall we do for this little lark +who has sung so sweet a song to us?" + +And the queen said to the king, "I think we must have some May-day +games for the little lark, and invite robin redbreast to sing with him." + +So the gay robin redbreast came and sang with the lark. + +And the king and the queen and all the fine lords and ladies danced and +made merry while the little birds sang. + +And after that the lark flew away home to his own green meadow, where +the old gray pussy-cat still lived among the tall reeds. + + + +[1] Permission of American Book Company. + + + + +SAVED BY A LARK[1] + +Little Helen was four years old. She lived in the country in a white +house with green window blinds. The house stood in a large yard, and +had pretty flowers in front of it and a row of big maple-trees on each +side. + +Behind the house was an orchard, where the birds liked to build their +nests and sing their sweet songs. Helen had a swing between two large +apple-trees which stood a little way from the back door. She could +swing ever so high, and could almost touch the green apples on one of +the branches. + +Back of the orchard and garden stood three big red barns. These barns +were full of wonders for Helen. She was always glad to go into them +with her father, and see the piles of corn and wheat, the plows and +wagons, and the many other things that were there. + +One morning in the harvest-time Helen was standing alone upon the +door-step. The sun shone bright; the robins were singing in the +apple-trees; the grasshoppers were chirping in the lane; but Helen +heard only the sound of the far-off reaper, as it came to her through +the soft morning air. She knew that her father was with the reaper. + +Don't you know what a reaper is? It is that with which the farmer cuts +his grain when it is ripe. It is drawn by horses, and it cuts down the +grain stalks with many sharp knives, which move back and forth very +fast. + +"I think I will go out to the field and help father," said Helen to +herself. + +In another moment the little feet were turned toward the harvest field. + +Across the orchard and down the lane she went, carrying her sunbonnet +in her hand and talking to the grasshoppers, which would somehow get in +her way. + +But when at last she came to the field, she saw the men and the reaper +far away toward the other side. + +Helen kept on across the field, for she thought that she would soon +catch up with the men. But it did not take long for the little feet to +grow very tired. + +Then she sat down on a sheaf of wheat and looked around her, wishing +that her father would come. + +Just in front of her the tall yellow grain was still standing. Helen +wondered why her father had not cut it down. + +As she was looking, a lark flew out from among the grain singing a +rich, clear song. The little child clapped her hands for joy. Then +she jumped from her seat and ran toward the place from which the bird +had flown. + +"There is a nest in there, and I am going to find it," said Helen to +herself. She parted the tall yellow wheat-stalks to right and left, +and went forward, looking all about her with her bright, sharp eyes. +She did not have to go very far, for right before her was the nest, +sure enough, and in it were three little birds. + +Was there ever anything so cunning as those little heads, with their +tiny bills wide open! It was such a pretty place for a nest, too. +Helen clapped her hands again, she was so happy. + +Then she sat down by the nest, but she did not touch the birdies. It +was like being in a golden forest, for the grain was high above her +head. + +Soon her eyes began to feel heavy, for she was very tired after her +long walk. She sat down, with her head upon her arm, and in a short +time was fast asleep. + +On came the horses, drawing the great reaper with its sharp cutting +knives. Helen's father was driving, and they were coming right toward +the spot where the little child was lying! + +Oh, Helen, little does your father think that you are hidden there in +the tall grain! + +What was it that made the farmer check his horses all at once? Did +something tell him that his dear baby was in danger? + +Oh, no! he thought that she was safe at home with her mother. But he +was a good man with a kind heart, and he saw something that made him +stop. + +The lark was flying wildly about over the grain that was in front of +the reaper. She seemed to say, "Stop! stop!" The farmer thought that +he knew what she meant, and he was too kind-hearted to harm a bird's +nest. So he said to one of the men, "Here, Tom, come and hold the +horses. There must be a nest somewhere among this grain. I will walk +in and look for it." + +What a cry the men heard when he found little Helen fast asleep by the +lark's nest! How his heart almost stood still when he thought of the +danger that she had been in! He caught her up in his arms and covered +her face with kisses. "Oh, my darling!" he said, "it was the lark that +saved you!" + +Yes, it was the lark, and his own kind heart, that had saved her. +Helen was carried home in her father's strong arms. She could not +understand what made the tears run down his cheeks. + +It was some time before the men could go on with their work. They left +the grain standing around the lark's nest, to thank her, as they said, +for saving little Helen. + +As they stood looking at the little birds in the nest, one of the men, +with big tears in his eyes, said, "God bless the birds! Come away, +boys, and let the little mother feed her babies." + + + +[1] Permission of American Book Company. + + + + +ALL ABOUT THE MEADOW LARK + +SUGGESTIONS FOR FIELD LESSONS + +Usually resident--sometimes goes south in late October, returning in +April. + +Song--a very beautiful sweet, clear whistle--heard in the early spring +and in the autumn--usually quite silent during brooding season. + +Female much paler in colour than male. General colour brown streaked +with brown and black and cream--breast and throat yellow--conspicuous +black crescent on breast--brown streak on head appearing to run through +the eyes--tail feathers edged with white, which is seen most plainly +when bird is in flight. + +Food--seeds, insects, larval insects, also swallows gravel to aid in +digestion. + +Nest made of grasses--built on the ground amid tall grass or +grain--usually quite skilfully hidden and arched or roofed over in a +very ingenious way. + +Eggs--four in number--about an inch and an eighth in length, a pure +white, speckled with brown. + +Greatest danger from snakes and field-mice. + +Meadow lark is not really a lark, but belongs to the blackbird family. + + + + +THE OWL + +[Illustration: The Owl] + +A GOOD-NIGHT + +"Haw-haw! Hoo! hoo!" + +Phyllis listened again. + +"Haw-haw! Hoo! hoo! Hoo! Hoo!" + +"Oh, I see you now!" laughed Phyllis. + +The owl moved silently as a shadow and perched very near to the little +girl. His great round eyes and his yellow bill gleamed in the +starlight. + +"I heard you calling!" said Phyllis. "But I could not at first tell +just where you were. I looked in a dozen trees before I came to you." + +"To-who? To-who-whoo-oo-oo?" questioned the owl. + +Phyllis laughed again. The owl blinked wisely. + +"I am going home to-morrow," Phyllis said. "I shall start to school +next week. Some day, perhaps, I shall be as wise as you, Mr. Owl." + +The owl only blinked his great eyes. + +[Illustration: "The owl only blinked his great eyes"] + +"But I'm sure I can never look so wise," she added, politely. + +"Hoo-hoo-hoo-oo!" hooted the owl, blinking sleepily. + +"If you will not talk with me I shall say good-night to you at once!" +said Phyllis. + +"To-who? To-who-ooo-oo-oo?" + +"To-you! To-you-oo-oo-oo!" called Phyllis, running off laughing. + +"Papa," she said, a few moments later. "Papa, the hoot-owl would not +talk with me!" + +"Wise, wise owl!" said papa, smiling at her over his newspaper. + + + + +THE OWL + + When cats run home, and light is come + And dew is cold upon the ground, + And the far-off stream is dumb, + And the whirring sail goes round, + And the whirring sail goes round, + Alone and warming his five wits + The white owl in the belfry sits. + + --Tennyson. + + + + +THE OWL GIRL + +Once a very queer little girl lived in a village beside the great Yukon +River. + +This little girl did not care to play with other children. Indeed, all +day long she would sit inside the stone hut and sleep. + +But as soon as evening came the little girl would awaken. She would +run out to the river-bank to play. She would shout and laugh. + +She did not mind the dark. In fact she declared that the sun hurt her +eyes and that she could see far better in the dark. + +The child's mother said that for all her queerness the little girl was +very wise. She knew many things which grown-up people had never heard. + +The people of the village shook their heads. They said there was magic +in it all, and that some day something strange would surely happen. + +So, when at sunset the queer little girl ran shouting to the river, the +people of the village watched from the bushes. + +And sure enough, something very wonderful did happen! + +One evening the little girl with her big shiny eyes ran shouting among +the trees which grew beside the river. + +She was chasing a little field-mouse, which at last ran tremblingly up +the low branch of a tree and hid in the dark. + +But the queer little girl, who could see quite well in the dark, jumped +to follow the mouse. + +Lo, as she jumped, the queer little girl changed into a bird with a +long, long beak and great shining eyes! + +Now when she saw what had happened to her she was frightened. In her +fright she flew back to her mother's stone hut. + +But now that she was a bird she did not remember about the doors and +windows. She flew wildly against the stone wall of the house. + +So rapid was her flight that she struck the wall with great force. Her +long bill and her face were quite flattened by the blow. + +She forgot her mother's house, and in pain flew again to the trees by +the river. + +The next night the mother heard the voice of her queer little girl +among the leaves calling, "Whoo-whoo-whoo!" + +But when she looked she saw only a flat-faced, big-eyed bird who was +making a supper of the poor little field-mouse. + + + + +THE OWL AND THE RAVEN[1] + +Once upon a time the owl and the raven were fast friends. + +They lived beside the same stream. They built their nests in a tree +side by side. They sang the same songs. They ate the same food. They +wore dresses of the same pale gray. + +There was nothing that these friends would not do for each other. So +great was their friendship that each was always finding ways to +surprise and please the other. + +At one time the raven was absent for two whole days. + +"What can he be doing?" said the owl to herself. "I know he is +planning some new surprise for me." + +When, on the third day, the raven returned, the owl knew from his +contented looks that the present must be unusually fine. + +"It is something more than a beetle or a field-mouse this time," she +thought. "Now what can I do for him? He is always so kind to me!" + +Then the owl began to look about for something to do for her friend the +raven. + +On the shore near their home tree a huge whale had once been caught and +cut up by the Eskimo hunters. Some of the bones still lay upon the +sandy beach. + +"Oh," said the owl, as she chanced upon these whalebones, "I know the +very thing which will please my dear friend the raven! + +"I will make for him a pair of beautiful whalebone boots! With them he +can walk over the sharp rocks and the icy cliffs in comfort and safety!" + +Thereupon the owl sat down in the sand and went to work. It was not +long until the boots were finished. They were beautifully smooth and +slender and graceful. + +"The raven cannot help being pleased," she said, as she carried the +boots toward the home tree. "I wonder if he is in!" + +As she drew near the owl heard the raven calling her name. Answering +loudly, she hurried to the place where he waited. But before the raven +saw her she hid the whalebone boots among the grasses, that she might +surprise him later. + +She found the raven hopping impatiently about and calling loudly. + +"Here--here I am!" she cried. "I have been away for but a short +time--but you were away for days!" + +"Oh, owl, dear," replied the raven, "though I have been absent I have +thought only of you! + +"See! here is a beautiful new dress which I have made for you!" And +the raven spread before his friend a beautiful dress of dappled black +and white. + +It was made of the softest, most beautiful feathers, lovely enough to +delight the heart of any bird. + +"Oh, how very beautiful!" cried the owl. "How kind you are to me! How +did you ever think of anything so lovely?" + +The raven smiled, well pleased with himself. + +"Try it on," he said. "I am sure it will become you. I am certain +that when you see how lovely you look, you will never again wish to +wear anything but black and white." + +Quickly the owl slipped from her old gray dress into the splendid new +one. Gently she fluttered about and ruffled the soft black and white +feathers. + +"Where did you get them?" she said, circling about and looking at her +tail for the twentieth time. + +"Sit down," commanded the raven, "and I will tell you!" So the owl +settled down on the branch beside the raven. + +"I found the feathers on that steep, rocky cliff beside the sea," he +said. "The stones were sharp and the winds were wearying, but at last +I finished the dress just as I planned. + +"I am glad that you are pleased. I am very tired now, and must sit +still and rest." + +So delighted was the owl that for a moment she had forgotten the +whalebone boots. Now as she looked at the raven she saw that in +scratching about for the feathers he had broken one of his pink toes. + +With a little cry of pity she flew to the grasses where the boots were +hidden. Quickly she snatched them up and flew back to the poor tired +raven. + +"Here," she cried, "here!--I thought of you while you were away. Now +you shall put your tired feet into these strong whale-bone boots. The +stones and the ice cannot hurt you again." + +"Oh, oh!" croaked the raven. "They are the very things for which I +have been longing!" + +"Put them on! Put them on!" cried the owl. "See how they will rest +you! They will make you feel quite young again!" + +The raven slipped his tired feet into the whalebone boots. Straight +away the old tired ache left him. He hopped gaily about and croaked +cheerfully. + +"How graceful!" he said. "How perfectly they fit! How comfortable." + +"Now I shall make a coat for you," said the owl. "It shall be pure +white. The feathers shall be the shiniest and the loveliest that I can +find!" + +By and bye the raven's white coat was ready to be fitted. + +"Come," commanded the owl. "Come and stand still while I fit your +coat." + +The raven came, but so delighted was he with the whalebone boots that +he could not stand still. As the owl worked over him he kept hopping +and dancing about. + +"Stand still!" cried the owl. "I can do nothing with you hopping about +so. I shall stick the pin-feathers into you!" + +For an instant the raven stood still, looking down at the boots. Then +he jumped so suddenly that the owl dropped a whole clawful of the soft +white feathers with which she was finishing the neck. + +Then the owl grew very angry. + +"Stand still!" she hooted. "If you jump another time I will throw the +oil from the lamp on you!"' + +Now the lamp was filled with whale-oil. In it wicks of moss and +twisted grass had been burned. With time and many wicks the oil had +become as black as soot. + +The raven looked at the black, sooty oil and then at his new white +coat. He really stood still for as much as two minutes. + +Just as the owl was trying to decide whether or not the coat should be +longer, to cover the tops of the new boots, the raven caught sight of +his own reflection in the clear water below. + +So pleased was he with his appearance that he flapped his wings, and +jumped up and down. + +The loose white feathers flew in every direction. The pin-feathers +dropped to the ground. The angry owl gasped for breath. + +Then in a rage she seized the lamp. She flung it at the raven. Alas, +for the poor fellow! The oil struck him full on the head. It ran down +before. It ran down behind! There was not a dry feather on him! + +"Quag! Quag!" croaked he, the oil dripping down on all sides. "Quag! +Quag! I shall never speak to you again!" + +"No," cried the owl. "Do not speak to me again. I would not have such +a sooty friend as you!" and she flew far away. + + + +[1] Adapted from Ethnological Bureau Report. + + + + +THE OWL + + When icicles hang by the wall, + And Dick the shepherd blows his nail, + And Tom bears logs into the hall, + And milk comes frozen home in pail; + When blood is nipped and ways be foul, + Then nightly sings the staring owl, + "Tu-who! + Tu-whit! tu-who!" a merry note, + While greasy Jean doth clean the pot. + + --"Love's Labour's Lost," Shakespeare. + + + + +ALL ABOUT THE BARRED OR HOOT OWL + +SUGGESTIONS FOR FIELD LESSONS + +Notes--deep-toned, startling hoot. + +Heard most frequently at nesting time. + +Upper parts brown, marked with white--face gray, mottled with black, +wings and tail barred with brown, eyes blue black, bill yellow, under +parts buff marked with darker, legs and feet feathered, bill and claws +dark, hooked, strong. + +Feeds on chicken, mice, etc. + +Usually take an old crow's or woodpecker's nest for their own +use--rarely make nests for themselves. Nest very early in the season, +young being sometimes ready to fly early in March. + + + + +THE BOBOLINK + +[Illustration: The Bobolink] + +A SUMMER SONG + +He sat upon the tallest bending grass stalk. He paid not the slightest +attention to Phyllis. He just swung lightly with the June breezes, and +sang his little heart out. + +Such a careless, joyous, jingling song Phyllis had never before heard. +It seemed just a bubbling-over of happiness and gladness. + +And such a common-looking little fellow to have such a wonderful voice! +He was but a little larger than a sparrow. + +His plumage was mostly black. His wings and tail were edged with pale +yellow, and there were splashes of white in places on his body. There +was a light yellow spot on the back of his neck. + +"You seem filled with gladness," said Phyllis. + +The little bird stared at her for a moment. Then he nodded his head, +and quivered his small wings. He opened his mouth again and warbled +out the jolliest, sweetest tune that bird throat ever sang. + +"How very beautiful!" cried Phyllis. "What a world of happiness you +send out in that song!" + +"Ah, but I should be happy," warbled the sweet-voiced bobolink. "I +have all that bird heart can wish!" + +"Tell me--" said Phyllis. + +"I at last have won my wife," sang the bobolink. "At this very moment, +in this very field, she is sitting on a nestful of light blue eggs." + +[Illustration: "'She is sitting on a nestful of light blue eggs'"] + +"Listen, Phyllis, and I will tell you all about it. + +"It was about the middle of May when my brothers and I started north. +All winter long we had wandered through the rice-fields of the South. + +"We were not happy there. We feared for our lives. There we are not +called bobolinks and the people of the South never listen for our songs. + +"In fact we seldom sing when we are in the South. The hunters call us +'rice-birds' or 'reed-birds.' With their terrible guns they hunt us +early and late. + +"It was no wonder, then, that we were so glad to return to the North. +It was a long journey, but we did not tire. In fact we travelled +mostly at night. During the day we feasted in the fields or at grain +stacks. + +"For a few days we flew about here, and sang out our names to every +passer-by. + +"Just ten days after our arrival something very wonderful happened. +Our sisters and wives and sweethearts came with fluttering wings and +sweet, quiet ways. + +"On that very day I met the lovely bird who now broods so gently over +our eggs. + +"She seemed to me the most beautiful bobolink that ever was. Early and +late I sang to her. My most beautiful songs seemed not half good +enough for so lovely a bird. + +"I, alas, was not the only bobolink who admired her. My own brother +was quite as delighted with her. He, too, sang to her. + +"Sometimes we sat in the same tree, each of us singing our hearts out +to the shy little creature whom we both loved. + +"I am sorry to say we did more than sing for the demure little bird. +We fought for her. We quarrelled fiercely. But at last it was I who +won her, and my brother found for himself another wife." + +"I wish I could find your nest," said Phyllis. + +"It is in this field," said the bobolink. "It is near the brook, and +every morning we both fly down there for a refreshing bath. + +"I have told you all this, and yet, Phyllis, I venture to say that you +might hunt all day among the grasses and not find my nest. For the +leaves and the grasses bend over and about the nest where my little +mate sits. + +"Should I call to her she would come to me. You perhaps would run to +the spot where she rose from the grass. But you would not find the +nest. + +"My wife in her quiet brown dress is too wise for that. She never +flies up directly from the nest. She runs a distance among the grass +stems and then starts up from the grasses. + +"There are five eggs in the nest, light blue with spots of blackish +brown. + +"When they are hatched, you will hear very little music from me. I +shall put on a quiet dress, much like the one which my mate now wears, +and will work early and late bringing food to my babies. + +"They shall have the very choicest grains and bugs and grasshoppers. +There will soon be no time for singing." + +"But when the little ones are grown--" said Phyllis. + +"Oh, yes, then I will sing again for you. But listen, Phyllis!" + +Phyllis heard a sweet little "Chink! Chink! Chink!" + +"My little mate is calling," gurgled the bobolink, flying away and +leaving the grass-top swaying wildly. + + + + +ROBERT OF LINCOLN + + Merrily swinging on brier and weed, + Near to the nest of his little dame, + Over the mountainside or mead, + Robert of Lincoln is telling his name. + "Bobolink, bob-o'-link, + Spink, spank, spink; + Snug and safe is that nest of ours, + Hidden among the summer flowers, + Chee, chee, chee!" + + Robert of Lincoln is gaily drest, + Wearing a bright black wedding-coat, + White are his shoulders and white his crest. + Hear him call in his merry note: + "Bobolink, bob-o'-link, + Spink, spank, spink; + Look what a nice new coat is mine, + Sure there was never a bird so fine! + Chee, chee, chee!" + + Robert of Lincoln's Quaker wife, + Pretty and quiet in plain brown wings, + Passing at home a patient life, + Broods in the grass while her husband sings: + "Bobolink, bob-o-link, + Spink, spank, spink; + Brood, kind creature, you need not fear + Thieves and robbers while I am here! + Chee, chee, chee!" + + --Bryant. + + + + +ALL ABOUT THE BOBOLINK OR RICEBIRD + +SUGGESTIONS FOR FIELD LESSONS + +Male arrives north middle of May.--Female comes some ten or twelve days +later--travel generally by night and in flocks.--Flies south from +August to October. + +Song is most musical and sweet, expressing joy and careless +happiness--the song of the female is but a short, sweet "Chink, +chink."--While the young are being cared for, the male does not sing as +he does earlier in the season, but takes up the plaintive "chink" of +his mate. + +Male in spring is black with pale yellow markings on back and wings and +tail. Yellow spot on back of neck--a patch of white on breast and +other white markings. + +Female pale yellow beneath--upper parts generally brown--two dark +stripes on top of the head. In autumn plumage of male resembles female. + +Nest of grasses well hidden by thick leaves and stems.--Usually built +in clump of grasses and always on the ground and very shallow. + +Eggs are pale blue with dark brown spots.--Four or five in +number.--Young birds when fully feathered are so alike that in a flock +young cannot be distinguished from old. + + + + +THE SEA-DOVES + +AND THE + +GREAT BLUE HERON + +[Illustration: Great Blue Heron] + +BESIDE THE SEA + +One hot August day Phyllis went to the seashore to live. + +"Such fun," she cried, as the train drew up at the seaside station. +"Such fun as I shall have playing in the sand and wading in the water." + +It was not half an hour before she was running along the beach beside +the cliffs. Her feet were bare, and she wriggled her toes in the sand +and splashed into the puddles of water. + +Presently she saw a number of little birds running along the beach and +flying over the water. + +"How swiftly they fly, and how well they dive," she said. "How easily +they swim, and they sometimes settle on the waves and rest. I wish +they would come nearer!" + +"I will tell you about them," said a solemn voice near by. Phyllis +stumbled in her surprise and splashed the water into her eyes. When +she could see again, a great blue heron was standing near. + +"Oh!" cried Phyllis, a bit frightened. "It is strange that I did not +see you. Yes, do tell me about the little sea-bird--and about yourself +also!" + +So the blue heron drew his head down between his shoulders, and, +standing on one leg, told Phyllis what he knew of the little sea-doves. + +"That little bird with brown back and white breast loves the sea," said +the heron. "He is never tired of the blue waves. + +"In stormy weather the little sea-dove is most happy, because it is +then that the waves are laden with small fish and crabs. During stormy +weather the little fisherman grows fat. + +"Watch them as they fly. Do you see how they are constantly dipping +their bills into the water? That is their way of fishing. + +"The sea-doves' nests are among the cliffs. In them they lay just two +bluish-white little eggs. + +"Sometimes, when the winds are very strong, the sea-doves are blown far +inland. Sometimes they find their way back to the sea. But there are +other times when they do not return." + +"And where is your own nest, O Great Blue Heron?" asked Phyllis, half +laughing at the queer, long-legged bird. + +"It is over yonder on a rock," said the heron. "There are now four +dull blue-green eggs in the nest. + +"Soon there will be four ugly, helpless birdlings, who will sit up and +cry for food. It will be at least three weeks after they are hatched +before they will try to wade out into these flat sea-marshes. I shall +have to let no fish escape me, if I do not wish the fledglings to +starve." + +"You do not think your babies pretty?" asked Phyllis. + +"No," said the heron, truthfully, "they are not even so good-looking as +other birds' babies. But that I do not mind, for will they not some +day be as beautiful as I myself?" + +"Yes," said Phyllis, "I have seen your picture many a time. In +mother's room is a large screen and on it is your likeness embroidered +in silks. The long green grasses are growing about you in the picture. +One foot is drawn up and your head is drawn down between your shoulders +just as it now is." + +"That is the way to rest," said the heron. + +"What were you doing here?" Phyllis asked, wading a little closer to +the long-legged bird. + +"I was fishing," said the great blue heron. "It is the one thing I +delight in. From morning till night--" + +"My brother Jack--" began Phyllis, but the bird paid no attention. + +"I sometimes stand here perfectly still for hours. I wait patiently +for the fish or the frogs to appear. + +"Then I strike suddenly with my strong, sharp bill. I snap up the fish +or frog and give it a knock or two to kill it. + +"Then I eat it. If it is a fish I swallow it, head first, so that the +scales shall not scratch my throat. + +"But see, Phyllis, the sun has set, and I have not yet had my supper. +I really must leave you!" + +Then the great blue heron rose slowly and silently and circled away +over the flat sea-marshes. Barefooted Phyllis scampered back to the +little seaside cottage, where a fish supper was awaiting her. + + + + +SEA-PIGEONS + +It was very early in the spring. The sun rose, stayed for only a +moment above the horizon, and then sank again from the sight of Eskimo +children. + +But already huge icebergs broke from the shore and floated out to sea. +Already the icy winds hurried away farther north. Already a few of the +bravest birds were returning for the summer season. + +It happened that a whole family of Eskimo children ran shouting and +laughing along the top of a cliff which overhung the sea. + +The older ones cared for the little ones. All were as happy and +thoughtless as children could be. In their glee they took off their +boots and ran with bare feet. + +Now below the cliff on the ice waited some Eskimo hunters. They +watched the huge cakes of ice farther out break off and float away. +They knew that soon the ice nearer shore would crack and float off in +the same manner. + +They knew also that when the shore ice cracked the seals would rise and +push their noses out of the water for air. + +The hunters, therefore, sat for hours upon their three-legged stools, +waiting with ever-ready spears. + +The children, not seeing the hunters, ran more noisily among the high +rocks of the cliff. + +At last with a booming sound the ice cracked and spread apart. The +water gushed up and spread lightly over the ice. The hunters waited +breathlessly. + +It was but a moment before the brown nose of a seal appeared. The +hunters lifted their spears to strike. But at that instant came a +wilder shout from the children and the brown nose of the seal +disappeared. + +"Oh," cried the hunter, angrily, "I wish the cliff would topple over on +those noisy children!" + +Hardly were the words spoken when with a great clash the cliff did +topple over. As the falling stones rattled about him the hunter heard +the shrieks of the children. + +Neither the hunters nor the children were ever again seen in the +village. But the next day some birds with pink wet feet ran about +among the stones at the foot of the cliffs. As they ran they made +strange cries which sounded half like children's laughter. + +"Listen," say the Eskimo people, when they hear the sea-pigeons cry, +"Listen to the voices of the little children who shouted so loud that +they frightened away the seals!" + +"Look!" cry the Eskimo children, when they see the pink feet of the +sea-pigeons, "those are the cold, bare little feet of the Eskimo +children who ran and shouted on the cliffs above!" + + + + +THE SANDPIPER[1] + + Across the narrow beach we flit, + One little sandpiper and I; + And fast I gather, bit by bit, + The scattered driftwood bleached and dry. + The wild waves reach their hands for it, + The wild wind raves, the tide runs high, + As up and down the beach we flit,-- + One little sandpiper and I. + + Above our heads the sullen clouds + Scud black and swift across the sky; + Like silent ghosts in misty shrouds + Stand out the white lighthouses high. + Almost as far as eye can reach + I see the close-reefed vessels fly, + As fast we flit along the beach,-- + One little sandpiper and I. + + I watch him as he skims along, + Uttering his sweet and mournful cry; + He starts not at my fitful song, + Or flash of fluttering drapery; + He has no thought of any wrong; + He scans me with a fearless eye. + Stanch friends are we, well tried and strong, + The little sandpiper and I. + + Comrade, where wilt thou be to-night + When the loosed storm breaks furiously? + My driftwood fire will burn so bright! + To what warm shelter canst thou fly? + I do not fear for thee, though wroth + The tempest rushes through the sky; + For are we not God's children both, + Thou, little sandpiper, and I? + + --Mrs. Thaxter. + + + +[1] Used by permission of and special arrangement with Houghton, +Mifflin & Co. + + + + +THE CIRCLING OF CRANES + +One autumn day ages and ages ago, the cranes were preparing to go +south. Cranes always dreaded the cold and flew away to the summer-land +at the first glitter of the frost. + +The crane leader had a loud, hoarse voice, and he called and called to +his flock to hurry. The cranes came from all directions at the call of +their leader. The father and mother cranes came. The old cranes came +and the young cranes came. Even the babies, whose feathers were scarce +grown, came flying at the call of the leader. + +All the cranes were happy, for they were going to the summer-land. +They were glad to go, for already the frost jewels sparkled on the +brown grasses and the cold winds were beginning to blow. + +"Come! come!" cried the crane leader, and his voice was hoarse with +shouting. "Come! It is full time we were off!" + +Young and old spread their wings for flight. They waited a moment for +their leader to take his place. As they waited the cranes glanced down +to the cold, bare country which they were about to leave. + +Thus looking down, the cranes saw a beautiful maiden standing alone at +the edge of the village. + +"How lovely she is!" said the crane leader. "And how lonely she seems!" + +"How thin her dress is!" said another crane. + +"See, she is weeping!" cried a third. Just at that moment the maiden +looked up and saw the flock of cranes above her. + +"Oh," she cried, "you are going to the summer-land. I wish I had +wings. I would fly away with you! + +"Alas! in this cold, cheerless Northland I shall starve and freeze. I +have no home. I have no friends. + +"There is no oil in my stone stove! There is no meat in my kettle. +What shall I do when the thick snow flies and the winter winds cut like +knives?" + +The crane leader looked down at the beautiful maiden in pity. The +whole flock, young and old, were filled with a wish to help the girl. +It was very sad, they said, that one so young and lovely should ever be +cold or hungry or unhappy. + +"Let us carry the maiden with us to the summer-land!" whispered a young +crane. + +"Yes, let us take her to the land of ever-lasting summer," begged an +old crane. + +"There she might gather food from the grain-fields. She might pick +berries by the roadside. She might drink from the clear, cool brooks +that run to the sea," said the leader. + +Following their leader, the whole flock swept down to the earth. They +gathered about the lovely, lonely maiden. + +They lifted her on their widespread wings and bore her up into the air. + +The maiden's long dark hair floated out like a cloud. She smiled +happily as the cranes with one voice told her of the summer-land to +which they would carry her. + +With wings outspread, that she might not fall, the cranes bore the +maiden away. Day and night, night and day, they carried her and never +seemed to tire. + +And the maiden had no fear. She laughed in sheer happiness when they +told her again and again of the beautiful country to which they +journeyed. + +For into that land, the cranes told her, neither cold nor hunger came. +They would show her the richest grain-fields. They would tell her +where the sweetest berries grew. They would show her wondrous blossoms +which grew for her in the distant summer-land. + +The beautiful maiden was never again seen in the cold, dreary +Northland, for to this day she wanders beside the sweet-voiced streams +in the far-off summer-land. + +But season by season the cranes, with wide-spread wings and hoarse +cries, return to the Northland at nesting-time. + +There they remain through the short sunny summer, but when the first +snowflakes flutter through the air the cranes prepare to fly away. + +And even to this day they circle about on widespread wings as though +they again carried the beautiful maiden. + +Even to this day the cranes, young and old, shout so loudly the praises +of the summer-land that their voices are hoarse and harsh. + + + + +ALL ABOUT THE GREAT BLUE HERON OR BLUE CRANE + +SUGGESTIONS FOR FIELD LESSONS + +Usually resident throughout the year. Lives in marshy, swampy places. + +Head and throat white, with long black crest.--Very long neck covered +with light gray feathers--darker on chest--back, ashy gray--darker +wings--a touch of red on bend of wings and legs. + +Long legs, which are black. + +Long bill, which is yellow, sharp, and strong. + +Food--mostly fish, frogs, and small reptiles. Feeds near sunset. + +Nest very simple--sometimes directly on ground or rocks--at other times +a rickety platform of sticks. + +Eggs blue-green--four in number--young helpless for at least three +weeks after hatching. + + + + +ALL ABOUT THE SEA-DOVE + +SUGGESTIONS FOR FIELD LESSONS + +Goes far north in nesting season. Found in Illinois swamps, and as far +north as Greenland. + +Small bird with entire upper parts almost black--under parts +white--wings tipped with white, bill black--feet pale red--toes webbed. + +Food obtained from the waves--flies swiftly and dives well--walks on +land better than most water-birds. + +Lays but two bluish-white eggs. + + + + +THE END. + + + + + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Stories of Birds, by Lenore Elizabeth Mulets + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STORIES OF BIRDS *** + +***** This file should be named 20547.txt or 20547.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/0/5/4/20547/ + +Produced by Al Haines + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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