Part 4

"The kingbird is a fine flycatcher and he does much good. Sometimes he does eat a honeybee, it is true, but it must be because he mistakes it for a large fly.

"The brown thrasher makes his home in the swamps and groves. He does eat some raspberries and currants, in addition to the harmful insects he devours, but nearly all of these must be wild ones.

"The few oats the bobolinks eat you could never miss, because these birds feed mostly on insects and the seeds of useless plants.

"The meadow lark saves thousands of dollars every year on the hay crop. He builds his nest on the ground in the meadow and feeds himself and his large family on the crickets and grasshoppers he finds there.

"The crow and the blackbird, I know, eat some of your corn. But they will not touch the seed corn if you put coal tar on it.

"Both of these birds do a great deal of good, for which they get no credit. In the spring they follow the plow in search of large grub worms, of which they are very fond. They also eat grasshoppers, and weevils, and caterpillars.

"All of which goes to prove that the more birds we have, the fewer bugs there are, to bother us. And the fewer bugs there are, the more food we have.

"Therefore, I find that you two boys are guilty of a great wrong. Not only have you killed the farmer's most valuable friends, but you have destroyed food as well.

"Your punishment will be one year in prison for every bird that you have killed."

At this the boys almost dropped to the ground, they were so badly frightened.

"Oh, Father Thrift," they cried, "please don't put us in prison! We have learned a lesson, and we promise never to kill another bird if you will only let us go."

"My friends, what do _you_ think?" asked Father Thrift, turning to the birds.

The hearts of the birds softened at the sight of the boys' distress. And they said, "Give them another chance, Father Thrift."

"But theirs is a serious offense," Father Thrift said gravely.

Then he turned toward the boys.

"I will release you on one condition," he said, "and that is that you will henceforth be kind to all harmless living creatures, and protect them from cruel usage.

"Also, that you will ask all the other boys, and their fathers as well, to do the same.

"Build bird houses for your feathered friends and encourage them to come to your villages and farms.

"In the end you will profit greatly by it."

"We promise to do that," the boys agreed eagerly.

"Now Shaggy Bear will help you to find your way out of the forest," said Father Thrift.

"Your bow and arrows I shall keep, for you will never want them again.

"And when you get home, tell your fathers and mothers, your grandfathers and grandmothers, your brothers and sisters, and the rest of my friends in the town, that Father Thrift sends them his best regards."

Then the boys said good-by, and they wasted no time in going.

AFTER MANY DAYS

The whole town was searching for the two missing boys. No one could imagine what had happened to them.

"We shall never see them again!" sobbed their mothers. But they did see them.

That very day, when the little birds had gone to sleep in their nests, and the crickets chirped by the roadside, while night and the stars looked down upon the earth, the two tired and hungry boys appeared.

Their mothers and fathers were overjoyed at their safe return.

All the townspeople crowded about them.

But the people could hardly believe the strange story they told.

"Father Thrift! Father Thrift!" they cried. "Why, it cannot be!"

For this was none other than the quaint old town in which the queer little old man had lived for so many years.

"Upon our word and honor!" said the boys earnestly. "See, we cross our hearts."

And they did.

This seemed to satisfy most of the villagers that the boys were telling the truth.

"Still, the forest is dense with trees and brush," said one old man, shaking his head doubtfully. "And it is alive with wild and dangerous animals.

"Not one of _us_ has ever dared to go beyond the edge of _that_ forest. How could Father Thrift live there?"

"Let us not doubt," said another old man. "We had better follow the advice which has been sent us.

"Have we not suffered since Father Thrift left us because we would not take his advice?

"We did not appreciate him when he was here. We have learned to appreciate him since he went away."

So the wonderful story was told and retold for miles and miles around. And Father Thrift's good advice was taken to heart.

And the birds came by hundreds to live in the neighborhood.

The crops grew better each year.

And the people felt happier.

Then they pondered the things which Father Thrift had taught them. And they did again as they had done when he was with them.

They lived simply, spent wisely, and wasted nothing.

And the quaint old town and the country around it grew prosperous, as in the days of old.

Then after many days the people said:

"We must enter the wood at all costs--even at the risk of our lives.

"We must find good Father Thrift and do him honor."

So they went down the crooked road that led to the forest and went in. The two boys led the way.

They heard the birds singing in the trees.

They saw the squirrels leaping and running.

They heard the ripple of the silvery brook.

They breathed the perfume of the pine trees and the firs.

They traced the footprints of bears, and rabbits, and deer.

Every little thing interested them now.

They gazed at the tender blue sky above. Never before had it looked so beautiful.

Never had the grass seemed so fresh and sweet and green.

Nor had the flowers ever seemed so richly colored and so sweetly scented.

Truly, the forest was a glorious place!

And nowhere--nowhere did they find the dreadful animals which they had lived to fear these many years.

But they found a cave, a very strange sort of cave. It had two windows and a door.

Inside were two beds and two chairs, and a table and a fireplace.

On the wall hung a home-made calendar.

Just outside the door was a high bench or table, and back of it stood a tree stump.

"This is the place where Father Thrift lived," said the boys. "How well we remember it!" But Father Thrift was not there now. The place was vacant.

"The queer little old man must have gone to live in the beautiful, happy, sunny land of which he often talked," said one of the men. And the others agreed with him.

* * * * *

Still stands the cave in the forest. People from miles and miles away visit it.

The guide tells them the wonderful story of Father Thrift and his animal friends. And it seems that with each retelling the story grows more and still more wonderful.

And there is a bird that lives in the wood which on moonlight nights, whether he sits on a branch, or hops on the ground, or flies about, is always heard whistling, "Fa-ther Thrift! Fa-ther Thrift!"

Many people misunderstand and think that he is saying, "Whip-poor-will! Whip-poor-will!"

But why any one should wish to whip any one else I do not know. For the world is such a happy place.