£0; 
[A little girl speaks the child’s, a little boy the bird’s part. For 
the boy a light gray collar, and vest; wings, coat, and trousers 
black. ] 
THE BIRDS BEFORE UNCLE SAM 
Ugh, birdie, birdie, how do you dare? 
Yow ll catch a bad cold like dear auntie Ruth. 
And how do you wipe your toes in the air, 
Where’s apron and towel for your use ? 
Catch cold, rheumatism and apron and what ? 
I know every bug on the shrubs ; 
There are no colds, and no “tisms” on the lot, 
I never catch colds, —I catch bugs. 
I never wipe with towels and things ; 
My feet are dry in no time, 
I strip my feathers and fan my wings, 
Then shake them, and fly off to climb. 
Now tell, where are the chickadee birds, 
When storms blow and owls hoot at night, 
When wolves prowl after the sheep and the herds, 
I scarcely can sleep for sheer fright ? 
Let storm, let wolf, let owl hoot or howl ; 
The snow, let it blow, let it crunch. 
We feel not the storm and we fear not the owl, 
In tree holes we sleep in a bunch. 
Uncle Sam 
If you make the birds as happy 
In your yards, in parks and fields, 
As they are now in your schoolroom, 
You will ever have grateful friends. 
