TWO LITTLE BIRDS 



THERE is, hidden away in a corner of North- 

 ern India, a tiny orchard which may be 

 Hkened to an oasis in the desert, because the 

 trees which compose it are always fresh and 

 green, even when the surrounding country is dry and 

 parched. Last April two or three of the paradise fly- 

 catchers who were on their annual journey northward 

 were tempted to tarry awhile in this orchard to enjoy 

 the cool shade afforded by the trees. They found the 

 place very pleasant, and insect life was so abundant that 

 they determined to remain there during the summer. 

 Thus it chanced that one morning, early in May, a cock 

 flycatcher was perched on one of the trees, preening his 

 feathers. A magnificent object was he amid the green 

 foliage. The glossy black of his crested head formed a 

 striking contrast to the whiteness of the remainder of 

 his plumage. His two long median tail feathers, that 

 hung down like satin streamers, formed an ornament 

 more beautiful than the train of a peacock. He was so 

 handsome that a hen flycatcher, who was sitting in a tree 

 near by, resolved to make him wed her ; but there was 

 another hen living in the same orchard who was equally 

 determined to secure the handsome cock as her mate. 

 Even while the first hen was admiring him, her rival 

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