Friends and Helpers Part 22

Not only will they give every minute of their time to securing food for their hungry family, but they will bravely fight any enemy who appears.

If it rains, you may see the mother bird standing on the nest with wings spread over her young, to shelter them from the falling drops.

Generally the robin rears two families each season. When the first brood is ready to leave the nest, Father Robin takes charge of them. Every night he leads them to a great roost or nursery where other young robins are brought by their fathers to sleep. In the daytime he returns to help Mother Robin care for family number two.

At last all the young are old enough to care for themselves. Then they gather in large flocks and go for a holiday in the wild cherry trees.

When the cherries are gone, they visit the sa.s.safras and pepperidge trees, and the woodbine tangles. Then comes a course of dogwood, with a dessert of nanny-berries.

Cedar berries are added by way of a bit of cracker and cheese. Then the robin's great feast is over, and he leaves us for the repast which is awaiting him in the South.

The robin is very useful to the farmer. He eats ants, bugs, caterpillars, army worms, and many other worms and insects which would harm the gra.s.s and fruit trees.

In return, what does he ask? Only to dine on a few ripe cherries and strawberries.

ROBIN REJOICE.

Among the first of the spring, The notes of the Robin ring; With flute-like voice, He calls, "Rejoice, For I am coming to sing!"

To any one gloomy or sad, He says, "Be glad! be glad!

Look on the bright side, 'Tis aye the right side; The world is good, not bad."

At daybreak in June we hear His melody, strong and clear: "Cheer up, be merry, I've found a cherry; 'Tis a glorious time of the year!"

GARRETT NEWKIRK.

From "Bird-Lore," by permission of The Macmillan Company.

TO A SKYLARK.

(EXTRACT.)

Hail to thee, blithe spirit!

Bird thou never wert, That from heaven, or near it, Pourest thy full heart In profuse strains of unpremeditated art.

Higher still and higher From the earth thou springest, Like a cloud of fire, The blue deep thou wingest, And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest.

Teach me half the gladness That thy brain must know, Such harmonious madness From my lips would flow The world should listen then, as I am listening now!

PERCY BYSSHE Sh.e.l.lEY.

FRIGHTENED BIRDS.

"Hush, hush!" said a little brown thrush To his mate on the nest in the elder-bush.

"Keep still! Don't open your bill!

There's a boy coming bird-nesting over the hill!

Let your wings out, so That not an egg or the nest shall show.

Chee! Chee! It seems to me I'm as frightened as ever a bird can be!"

Then, still, with a quivering bill, He watched the boy out of sight o'er the hill.

Ah, then in the branches again, His glad song ran over vale and glen.

Oh, oh! if that boy could know How glad they were when they saw him go, Say, say, do you think next day He could possibly steal those eggs away?

ANON.

DON'T ROB THE BIRDS, BOYS.

Don't rob the birds of their eggs, boys, 'Tis cruel and heartless and wrong; And remember, by breaking an egg, boys, We may lose a bird with a song.

When careworn, weary, and lonely, Some day as you're pa.s.sing along, You'll rejoice that the egg wasn't broken That gave you the bird with its song.

ANON.

A GOOD SHOT

There was once a boy whose eye was so true, and whose hand was so steady, that he became a very good marksman. If he threw a stone, or fired at anything with his air-gun, he usually hit what he aimed at. He took such pride and pleasure in his skill that he was always looking for good shots.

Near his house lived a bird. Five young ones were in her nest. So many mouths, always wide open for food, kept the little mother busy. From morning till night she flew over fields and woods, getting worms and bugs and seeds for her babies to eat. Every day she flew off chirping gayly, and came back as soon as she could with a bit of food. The smallest bird had been hurt in some way and could not cry so loudly as the others. The mother always gave him his breakfast first.

One day when she had picked up a worm and was resting a moment, the good marksman saw her.

"What a fine shot!" he said, and fired his air-gun. The bird felt a sharp, stinging pain in her side, and when she tried to fly she found that she could not lift herself from the ground.

Fluttering and limping, she dragged herself along to the foot of the tree where her nest was. Her broken wing hurt her very much, but she chirped a little, in as cheerful a way as she could, so that her babies should not be frightened. They chirped back loudly, because they were hungry, and they could not understand why she did not come to them. She knew all their voices, and when she heard the plaintive note of the smallest, she tried again and again to fly. At last she fell in such a way that she could not move her wings again.

All day she lay there, and when her children called, she answered with her old, brave chirp. But as the hours went by, her voice grew fainter and fainter, until at last it was still.

In the morning she was dead. The little ones called now in vain. They cried until they were so tired that they fell asleep; but soon their hunger waked them and they cried again.

The next night was cold, and they crowded together, hoping to get warm.

How they missed their mother's warm, soft feathers! It grew colder and colder. Before dawn they all died, one after the other. Would the boy have been so proud of his good shot if he had known the whole story?

Adapted

"Be kind to animals," as a motto for every schoolroom in the United States conspicuously and constantly displayed by teachers upon wall or blackboard, will go far and help greatly towards inculcating a spirit of kindness to animals and educating humanely the boys and girls who are to be future citizens of this great country.

THE GOLDFINCH