58 AMERICAN ORNITHOLOGY 



\A/l]at tl]e iBirelj (§)Gyiel 



By Clarence Hawkes. 



The birds were always a source of sweet delight to the children. It 

 mattered not, whether it was early in the spring and the bluebird had 

 just come with his sweet song, gay in his bright coat of blue and 

 crimson; or whether it was late in the autumn and the last faint call 

 of the robin was dying away as he flew southward to his winter home. 

 The song was alike welcome. 



The children could not always tell what the birds were saying in 

 their low musical language, so their mother who was a bird lover and 

 understood bird language made some pretty little jmgles which told 

 just what they were saying. Some of these rhymes I remember and 

 you shall have them so you may know what the birds are saying when 

 you hear them sing. 



When Blue-bird sat upon the clothes post and the bright sunlight 

 falls upon his rich coat, he would pour fourth his pure sweet song 

 which was all the more welcome as none of the other birds had yet 

 come north. 



Cheery, cheery, low and clear, 



I can charm the dullest ear, 

 Singing when the air is chill, 

 Calling for the daffodil. 



The next one of the children's little feathered friends to arrive from 

 the south was robin. Some mornings they would get up and look out 

 of the window and there he was hopping about in the meadow, getting 

 his breakfast. Mis breast was just as bright as when he flew away and 

 he was the same j^jrt fellow. When he had finished his morning meal 

 he would fly up into the old elm tree, and swelling out his breast to its 

 utmost, begin, his song. 



Cheer up, cheer up, when the sun 

 Is rising in the east, 

 Cheery cheery when we've done 

 The work of man and beast. 



