to tree, or perched on the ruined greenhouse to 
look for mice, or dashed into the vines on the 
chimney where the English sparrows roosted. 
The kingbird had never seen an owl catch a 
bird, but he knew in some way that it would if 
it had a chance. 
He had not lived long in old John’s orchard 
before he had an opportunity to learn what a 
terrible creature was abroad in the garden. It 
all came about in this way. Little Edith would 
sometimes come out to look at the kingbirds, 
and one day while watching them, she saw a 
beautiful bluebird sitting on a garden stake. 
After looking at it for a minute she smiled, then 
clapped her hands in joy and ran away to the 
house. That evening she came again and with 
her was a boy who went to her school. He car- 
ried a bird box he had made himself. This he 
nailed to a pole, and, after much digging and 
puffing, they set the pole into the ground and 
seemed much pleased. Each of them wore a 
button with a robin’s picture on it, which, as 
everyone knows, meant that they belonged to a 
children’s club that studied birds and how to pro- 
36 
