The Audubon Note Book. 



241 



But at that time we were so used to seeing rows 

 of birds in the milliners' show cases that we looked 

 upon them almost as manufactured articles — like rib- 

 bons and velvets, and did not realize that these 

 birds had to be murdered before they could arrive 

 at the dignity of becoming millinery. We city 

 people know but little of birds, our varieties being 

 so limited, and we imagine that those living in freer 

 spaces, where birds abound, must love them devoted- 

 ly; but it is not always so, for only last summer, 

 when I spoke admiringly to a farmer of the lovely 

 birds to be seen in numbers on every part of his 

 farm, I was surprised to find that he had never no- 

 ticed them particularly, knew nothing of the varie- 

 ties, and marvelled at my enthusiasm. 



Then I remembered Whittier's lines: 



" Unto him who stands afar, 

 Nature's marvels greatest are ! " 



— yet this is not always the case either, for the peo- 

 ple in that vicinity value their birds highly and have 

 made strict laws to insure their safety. 



Flying around this farm where I spent the sum- 

 mer were robin-redbreasts, bluebirds, swallows, little 

 brown birds who made their nests in the wheat low 

 down on the ground, bright yellow birds and wood- 

 peckers. These last are beautiful and interesting; 

 the general effect of their coloring is a steel-gray, 

 but on examination we find that some of their tiny 

 feathers are black, some white, and many a soft 

 mouse-color, all blending to make a harmonious 

 whole — a sort of half mourning little creature. But 

 though he wears the mourning livery, he does not 

 devote himself to idle grieving, for he is very active 

 in his particular line of business, which is to hunt 

 and capture the insects hiding in the cracks of the 

 tree-bark; in this search he runs very rapidly around 

 and around the trunk of a tree, beginning at the 

 root and working his way up, or starting above and 

 going down, winking and blinking, pecking and 

 picking so fast that one cannot believe a grub could 

 escape. He is so eager and so bright and twitches 

 and twirls at such a rate, that if you watch one a 

 little while you will find yourself ready to laugh and 

 will feel like asking him if he couldn't be a little 

 more moderate, or if he never had anything to eat 

 before. 



Every one knows the graceful dip of the swallow 

 in its happy excursions toward cloudland; could one 

 ever tire of watching him execute his curves and 

 angles of a joyous freedom ? It was many years 

 since I had been on a farm, so I was fresh to enjoy 

 its delights. Often I went with the children to the 

 field when the mowing was in progress, where we 

 would stay for hbiirs, lying in the hay-wagon or sit- 



ting on heaps of new mown hay, and then the dear 

 birds always came and entertained us. 



Of course we sat very still so that they would hop 

 around on the ground close to us, picking up grains 

 and seeds or catching the worms brought into view 

 by the mowing. 



Familiarly and happily they worked and played 

 together, the robin and the ground bird, the blue- 

 bird and the yellow. 



.Splendid fellow this last, with black tail and wing 

 tips, and black on his pretty head. 



What pleased us most of all was to see several of 

 them at a time perched on the broad part of a rake 

 as it stood upright, the handle planted in the ground. 

 There they would gather, such pretty contrasts, hop- 

 ping and twittering, balancing airily, sometimes 

 reverently still for a moment, looking quite con- 

 templative, as if dimly aware of subtle surrounding 

 mysteries; now and then breaking forth into a lovely 

 burst of song and at last flying away happily or 

 pouncing down on some savory grub, who didn't 

 know enough to keep out of sight. 



All this time the swallows — who are not given to 

 perching — darting out of their nests under the eaves 

 of the barn, circled and soared, dipped and swayed, 

 now close above our heads and then far off in the 

 heavenly sky, doing so perfectly that which they 

 were made to do, while quite unconscious of the 

 vital charm their presence added to this soothing 

 pastoral scene. 



All summer long I watched these lovely creatures 

 with an interest such as I had never felt before, and 

 when the Audubon Society was brought to my no- 

 tice soon after my return to city life I felt that I had 

 had a special preparation for its work — the seed fell 

 on plowed ground. 



There is one thought, dear children, I want to 

 leave with you; if you will understand it, it will 

 help to make you reverent. 



It is this: that every bird is "an expression of a 

 thought of God." 



Vou have a thought in your mind and speak it, 

 then it is a word or a sentence. God makes his 

 thoughts into forms and they are his words and sen- 

 tences. He thinks of grace in motion and makes a 

 swallow; He thinks of sweet music on the summer 

 air and makes a robin and a thrush; He thinks out 

 a yellowbird and a bluebird for contrast and puts 

 them before our eyes to show us how He loves 

 beauty of form and color, leading us to believe He 

 loves, therefore, beauty of heart and life. 



These all tell His thoughts to us, and the more 

 reverently we study them the more our minds will 

 open toward heaven, and the light of His knowledge 

 shall fall upon us as dew upon the flowers at night. 



S. H. B. 



