Chapter 5

The magpie is a very handsome bird. He knows he is handsome, too. He has a fine broad tail. There is a band of purple near the end of each feather, and the end is green and purple.

He walks about with this handsome tail perked in the air. He does not drag it in the dirt, not he!

He is a bright bird, too. He can learn to talk, and he is full of pretty and naughty tricks. He is a--thief! He steals eggs from other birds' nests. He strikes his bill through the egg and walks off with it. And he does a worse thing than that. He steals the young birds and eats them.

But the Magpie is very careful to build her nest so nobody shall steal her eggs. In the first place she always builds on a high tree. She chooses a tree that has a long smooth trunk, that the boys cannot climb easily. How do you suppose she knows about mischievous boys? She must make a study of boys.

She builds her nest of dry sticks and mud. She carpets it with wool and fine roots. (Birds can always find plenty of wool sticking on the bushes in sheep pastures. There is vegetable wool too, like the wool on the growing ferns.) Then she makes a roof of sticks; she leaves open a small round door at the side. So you see it is not easy for boys or birds to steal her eggs.

Magpies like bright glittering things like silver spoons and rings. They often steal them and hide them in their nests.

This Magpie is a European bird. There is a beautiful red Magpie that lives in China.

AT THE BEACH.

The Park children went to the beach last summer. It was a small beach; not at all like Nantasket Beach.

There were not many folks there. There was a young woman--a very queer young woman indeed, Sam thought. She used to go out on the beach and sit in a camp chair and read!

"Pshaw! who wants to read with a whole ocean to look at?" said Sam.

Such cunning little slippers as she wore! and her ruffles and hat! Oh, my! She used to draw pictures sometimes, but Sam didn't know that.

"Halloo! there she is again!" shouted Sam one day. She was drawing a picture of them that moment, but they did not know it. They were all sliding down the sand cliff.

They had taken off their shoes and stockings, and were going in bathing.

"Whoo-oop! hurrah! here we come! clear the track!" What a noise they did make, to be sure!

But it did not disturb anybody. Nobody heard it but the young woman and some cows in the pasture near by.

How warm and soft the sand was! It was as good as coasting in winter. It was better!

Down they went into the water like so many ducks. They can all dive and swim almost as well as ducks. Papa and mamma were off shore, taking a sail together. They saw the slide down hill, and the plunge into the water. They saw the brown and yellow heads bobbing about.

"Do look at them!" said mamma. "Perfect little Arabs!"

"Do 'em good," said papa. "Little Molly never had such rosy cheeks in all her life."

"But think of their clothes!" said mamma.

FARMER GRAY AND HIS APPLES.

Farmer Gray had a load of apples to sell one day. But nobody wanted them. People offered him such a small sum of money for them, he said he would rather give them away.

So he started for home with his load of apples. He drove down Summer street, past the schoolhouse. The boys were having their recess.

Now Farmer Gray loved children. So when he saw these boys he thought, "Here's just the market for my apples."

He stopped his horse and called out, "Do any of you boys know what to do with apples?"

Then there _was_ a shout! "O yes, sir, we guess we do!" said all the boys.

"Come on, then!" said Farmer Gray.

The boys crowded around the wagon, and the farmer tossed the apples to them.

"It is well for you, boys, that I found no market for my apples this morning," he said.

"That's so!" said the boys. Then they thanked him heartily.

Charlie Read said, "You are the funniest man I ever saw to stop and give us the apples."

"You would like to see another just like me to-morrow, wouldn't you?" said Farmer Gray.

"Yes, I would," said Charley, "and I should like to live with you too."

Just then the school bell rang. The boys all shouted, "Good-by! good-by!" as Farmer Gray drove off.

"I'm glad enough I didn't sell those apples this morning," thought Farmer Gray.

AH KEE.

Ah Kee is the funniest little fellow alive.

He can stand as straight as any boy I ever saw.

But the straighter he stands, the more you laugh.

He thinks he is very tall. He is about three feet tall.

He thinks he is a little gentleman, because he can drink out of a coffee-cup and not spill a drop.

But Ah Kee oftener behaves like a rogue than like a gentleman.

There is always a look of mischief in his bright black eyes.

His mistress never allows him to go into the parlor by himself.

She knows he would sit on the brackets with the little statues.

She knows he would like to swing to and fro on the curtain tassels.

She knows he would like to jerk the bell-pull, and bring Rose up from the kitchen.

She knows he would like to take the Sevres vases and walk up and down the room with them in his arms.

No, Ah Kee, with his roguish tastes, is not to be trusted in the parlor by himself.

But he sometimes comes in when she is there. Sometimes when she is reading she hears a soft sound like this, "_lsp-s-s-s!_"

She jumps up, looks all around. Under the table, or in a corner she sees a soft, round, feathery ball of fur--and one little paw raised, all claws and motion.

Ah, that is Ah Kee, and Ah Kee means mischief. Perhaps he will spring into his mistress' lap. Perhaps he will leap up on the piano. You cannot be sure what he will decide to do.

Yes, Ah Kee is a monkey, a gay little spider monkey, with a long tail that he likes to carry over his head in the shape of the letter S.

Ah Kee's mistress has made up her mind to do one thing. She will buy Ah Kee a silver collar with a ring. She will buy Ah Kee a broad blue ribbon.

Then, when she wants a quiet hour, she will slip the blue ribbon through the collar ring, and tie Ah Kee to the door knob.

Dick and Gray, My bird and cat, Good friends are they: Just think of that! Dick pecks Gray's paw; Gray winks and blinks. "I'll not harm Dick," Is what he thinks. So on the wall, This sunny weather, Chirping, purring, They play together.

THE RETURN OF THE BIRDS.

Down in the South Land, one morning in March, there was a great stir among the birds. "Spring has come in the far North," they said. "Jack Frost is going, the ice is melting, and now we'll go home-home!"

Bluebirds, and robins, and bobolinks, how glad they were! They got up very early that morning, even for birds. They bathed in a tiny pond, and preened their feathers. They ate their breakfast and then they started, straight through the air, for the North.

Do you wonder how they knew the way? How does a bird know which way is north and which way is south? There is a "Careful Gardener" who tells the flowers when to bloom, and he tells the birds which way to fly.

They flew that day on and on; over the green fields bright with flowers; over the trees covered with green leaves. By and by, they came where the grass was not yet green; where there was snow in the hollows; where there was ice in the brooks. But they didn't mind the cold, for they wore their very thickest feather coats.

That night they nestled down together, and slept in a big pine-tree. They found some dried berries on the bushes, for breakfast and supper. It was very dark in the morning; it rained. But they did not mind that; they liked it. They knew the rain would melt the snow, and make the grass and flowers grow.

"But we must put on our waterproofs," they said.

Do birds wear waterproofs? Oh, yes! But they do not carry them in trunks. When a bird wants to take a journey, he just flies off. He does not have to pack a trunk. He has a tiny bag of oil under the tip of his wings. This is his waterproof.

With his bill he takes out the oil and spreads it over his feathers.

The raindrops cannot go through this oil waterproof, but they roll quickly off to the ground. After they had all put on their waterproofs, they flew on and on again, through the rain.

They did not stay together that day. Part of them flew to the northeast. By and by these came in sight of a big gilded dome.

"I know where we are," said one old robin. "That is Boston State House, and right down there is our old nest!" and down they flew into the Public Gardens. The Boston little men and women can see them there any day, busy about their nests, and merry as birds can be.

Part of the birds flew to the northwest, to the hills and woods and fields. They built their nests in the trees and on the ground. They built them in barns and in chimneys. They hid them in the grass and in the reeds by the brooks; and the little country children know where to find them.

FIRST REWARD OF MERIT.

With bounding step and merry laugh My little girl--five and a half-- Held in her hand a picture-card: "See! mamma, see! I've tried so hard; Look and see what the letters spell; 'Tis a reward for doing well. I have been good a whole long week; Not once, mamma, did teacher speak, Or say from recess I must stay, Because in school I'd tried to play. Last week, you know, my card I lost For giving Charlie's book a 'tost,' And speaking out aloud in school; I did not know 'twas 'gainst the rule. Then teacher said, 'Edith come here.' I went right to her, mamma dear, And 'cause I hop-skipped down the aisle, The scholars all began to smile. That week I was so very good, 'Most got a card, and think I should If I'd not hop-skipped down the aisle, And made the other scholars smile. But if I get one once in four, School keeps so long, I'll get lots more."

FOUR LITTLE MICE.

Four little mice lived all alone Where cats had been so long unknown; They ate and slept without a fear That any danger could be near. One sunny day with brush and broom They cleaned their pantry, swept their room, Then made themselves as neat and fine As if invited out to dine. And then not knowing what to do, They looked their cedar closet through And found their gray coats growing thin: So sat them down some yarn to spin, Soon, through a chink to their surprise, A cat looked in with hungry eyes-- "Shall I come in and cut your thread?" "Oh, thank you, no!" they trembling said.

FINNETTE.

"Bow-wow-wow!" was the first thing Winny heard that morning. She opened her eyes and there stood Finnette. Aunt Bertha had brought her as a birthday gift for Winny from Paris.

Finnette was full of pretty tricks. She could stand on her hind legs and dance. She could sing.

"Now, Finnette," Winny's mamma would say, "I will play and you shall sing."

So Finnette would stand on her hind legs and sing such a droll little tune. It sounded like "I love--I love--I love--do you?" Finnette always helped Winny to put her dolls to bed. It was wonderful to see her.

"Bring me Grandma Snowhair's cap, Finnette," Winny would say. And Finnette would trot off and fetch it. She knew the doll's clothes just as well as Winny did.

"Now, Finnette, I will have Glorianna's nightgown," said Winny again, and Finnette would bring it.

When Winny got her dolls in bed, she always sang them to sleep, and then Finnette would sing too. "I love--I love--I love--do you?"

Mamma used to like to peep in and see them. Winny always put her dolls to bed at five o'clock. Finnette always knew when the clock struck five, and off she would run to find Winny.

But one day she couldn't find her. She searched through the house and garden, but Winny was not to be found. So Finnette lay down in the library, and waited. Once she got up and trotted in and looked at the dolls. She barked softly, as though she would say, "Be patient; your mamma will be here soon."

But the little mamma did not come; so Finnette concluded to put the dolls to bed herself. She laid Grandma Snowhair on the floor and then with her teeth and paws she gently drew off her cap and gray silk dress. She put on her nightgown, but she could not button it.

She undressed Glorianna, but she got her nightgown on upside down. She put her legs into the sleeves. She did not try to put on aunt Sukey's nightgown. She just wrapped her up in a blanket.

She tumbled the four small dolls into their beds anyhow. How surprised and pleased and amused Winny was when she came home! There were the dolls fast asleep, and their clothes all piled on a chair; and there sat Finnette watching them. She gave the happiest little "bow-wow," when she saw Winny. She had not been able to eat or to sleep with the care of all those dolls on her mind. Winny hugged and kissed her.

"You dear old darling Finnette," she said. "How sweet you have been to my children. You shall have a silver collar, for you are my best friend." Then Bridget brought Finnette her supper of bread and milk.

ABOUT THE DEER.

"Look! look!" said Ernest, "see the deer! It has got out of the deer park. I did not know deer could run like that!"

The frightened creature was running down Washington street. He darted in and out among the horses and carriages, and people. He leaped over the heads of the children.

Ernest and his mother stopped to look; everybody stopped to look. On and on he ran till he came to the river, then he leaped into the deep water and was drowned. Was it not a pity? The pretty deer that Ernest had fed so often on Boston Common! He almost cried when he thought of it.

How many of you have ever seen deer? In many of the United States they are still found in the woods. They are kept in almost all public parks.

Deer are gentle creatures, and are easily tamed. But I think they are happiest when they are free to roam the woods where they like.

They eat the tender grass in the spring, and sometimes, if they live near farms, they break into the corn and wheat fields.

In the winter they eat the seed vessels of the wild rose, the hawthorn buds, the brambles and leaves. They like acorns, and, in the South, they eat the persimmons. The persimmon is a yellow plum. They feed in the night.

In hot summer days they like to wade into the ponds and rivers, and stand under water, all but their noses.

The young deer are called fawns; they are pretty spotted creatures. The mother keeps them in a quiet place where she thinks the hunters and dogs cannot get them; for men often hunt the wild deer. It is a great pity to kill them for sport, is it not?

The deer hears quickly, and his scent is very keen too. When the hunters are after him, how fleet he is! Sometimes he leaps into the water and swims. Then the dogs lose the scent and cannot follow him. The male deer sheds his horns every year.

When the horns are growing they look as if they were covered with velvet.

EVERYBODY'S DOG.

Seen me? Of course you have seen me before. I can't count the times I have been at your door. Where do I live? Why, everywhere, here! My name? Well, I own it is rather queer; Some call me "good fellow," or "Fido," or "Tray," But I come just the same, whatever they say. Am I ever lonesome? How can I be When acquaintances everywhere whistle to me? Hungry? That's something I've never yet known, For friendly hands toss me sweet bits or a bone. Cold? Oh, never! for doors everywhere Are opened to shelter my silky brown hair, For _I_ am everybody's dog!

And what do I give for this treatment so kind? I drive home the lost cattle and sheep that I find; With the children and babies I tenderly play, And faithfully keep them from going astray. And many an ill-natured tramp I have sent Away from the game on which he was bent. I can carry a basket or pail just the same As a boy, and better than some I could name. I bark in the night when danger is near, And if I'm in the house no sleeper need fear. What! be your own dog? Do you think 'twould be fair To stay here with you when they all need my care? No; I'll come every day for a minute or two But now I must go for I've so much to do; For _I_ am everybody's dog!

A BIRD'S NEST.

What a wonderful thing a bird's nest is! Even the simplest nests are very wonderful. Some boys and girls collect birds' nests, and that is very well, if you wait till the eggs are hatched, and the birds have flown.

The ground sparrow builds a lovely little nest; and what a curious nest is that of the barn swallow.

How many of you have seen the nest of the Baltimore oriole? She hangs it upon the end of an elm branch, where it swings and dances in the wind.

I have for you this time, the nest of an African bird. This little bird belongs to the class called weavers. If you look at the nest, you will understand why this bird is called a weaver bird.

See how skilfully the nest is woven out of twigs, and grasses, and fibrous roots. There are many kinds of weaver birds, and each kind builds a different nest. Sometime I shall show you another weaver bird's nest.

A RAINY DAY.

It was the day set for the picnic by the lake. Two little white gowns, and the boys' best coats, and the ribbons and the neck-ties, had been joyfully laid out the night before.

But next morning it was not picnic weather. The sky was low and heavy. By nine o'clock there were thick, dense, black clouds.

"I think we might go," said Flossie, "even if it does rain. We go to school, lots o' days, when it rains."

Just then the big black raindrops fell upon the window-panes--"A great pailful in every drop," said Tom.

"I want a picnic," wailed Susie, "and I can't have it."

"You shall have it," said papa; "we will have an indoors picnic, such as my papa used to give me on a rainy day."

He led the way to the library. He took down a huge set of maps, a great portfolio of engravings, and two or three heavy picture books. "We will visit India," said he.

"Hurrah," said Tom. "Tiger hunts, elephant rides, jungles, snake charmers, jolly old idols, and the Parsee merchants."

Tom knew very well what it meant when papa gave his mind up to turning over picture books and talking as he turned.

They did have a good time; and before three o'clock it cleared away, and though it was too late for the picnic they had planned, it was the most perfect picnic weather, and as papa wanted to trim up cedars on the knoll by the lake, they all went down. Papa and mamma played with them for a while like an older brother and sister. They harnessed the children in a "four-horse team," and drove up and down until the "little colts" had had enough of fun and were glad to sit in the arbor and watch papa trim trees.

THE STORY OF A CANE.

Was it a shiny black cane with a gold head? No. I think you never saw a cane like this one. It was made out of a small balm-of-Gilead-tree. It belonged to John Reed. He taught school. He was eighteen years old.

When vacation came, John walked home. It was forty miles, and a pretty long walk. But there were no railroads in those days, and John did not like to ride in a stage-coach.

He thought he could walk more easily with a cane to help him. So he made this cane I am going to tell you about.

When he got home he stuck this cane into the ground in the lane, and then forgot all about it. But the cane was alive! When John stuck it into the ground it began to drink up the water from the soil.

Tiny green leaves sprouted out all over it. John saw it one day. How surprised he was! It grew all summer long. The next year the branches began to grow; and year by year it grew larger and larger till it was fifty years old.

Then John Reed was sixty-eight years old; the little children called him "Grandpa Reed."

They called the great balm-of-Gilead-tree in the lane "Grandpa's cane." They used to like to put their arms about it and look up into the branches. They thought it wonderful that a cane should grow into such a big tree.

Then came the great Civil War. Your mamma or auntie can tell you about it. There were a great many wounded soldiers, and the people used to send bandages and lint for their wounds. Do you know what lint is? It is made of linen cloth. It is soft, like wool.

Grandpa Reed had a little granddaughter Clara. Clara saw the women and girls making lint, and she wanted to make lint too. But aunt Mary said she was not big enough to make lint.

"But I will tell you," said aunt Mary, "where you can find some nice lint;" and she took her out to the great balm-of-Gilead-tree in the lane.

Now you have all seen the soft, white pussy-willows. Well, the pussies are the willow flowers; and the balm-of-Gilead-tree has pussies too. But they are not soft and white; they are brown. They look like brown caterpillars.

After the blossoms wither the seeds come. These seeds are covered with wool like that on the dandelion's ball.

The wind blows this wool from off the trees, and there it was that morning. The ground was white with it.

"There is the lint," said aunt Mary, and she gave Clara a bag to put it in.

It took a great many bits of wool to fill the bag. But Clara was patient, and worked diligently, and when the bag was full, she went with aunt Mary to carry it to the soldiers' camp.

Clara gave it to the surgeon. He said the balm-of-Gilead lint was much better than the linen lint. So "Grandpa's cane" and little Clara helped the sick soldiers to get well again.

MISS LOLLIPOP'S FANCIES.

Down by the seashore Miss Lollipop sat, Dropping the little white shells in her hat; "See!" cried the darling, and shouted with glee, "These pretty things were all waiting for me; Waiting for me!"

Creeping and curving across the gray sand, The wavelets came dancing to kiss the fair land, Wooing with murmurs the flower-gemmed lea; "Ah," cried Miss Pops, "they are whispering to me, Whispering to me!"

Darting and flashing the gay sunbeams flew Down from a heaven of midsummer blue, Smiling and dimpling all over the sea; "There," cried Miss Pops, "they are laughing at me, Laughing at me!"

In the green meadows the tall grass stood fair, Waving and tossing in sweet summer air, Dipping and bending around her white knee; "Look," cried Miss Pops, "it is bowing to me, Bowing to me!"

Over the hills the sweet flower bells rang, High in the tree tops the little birds sang. --Tipsy-top bobolinks bent on a spree; "Hark!" cried Miss Pops. "They are singing to me, Singing to me!"

Deep in the roses the bumblebees flew, Sipping their rations of honey and dew, With jewel-necked humming-birds gorgeous to see; "Now," cried Miss Pops, "they are shining for me, Shining for me!"