OUR BIRDS’ RESTAURANT. 65 
heard of their carrying money about with them, and so 
we said nothing about it. 
All we ever received from our little guests by way 
of payment was song and twitter and pleasant company 
in the cold, sad part of the year, but we thought that 
was good pay. 
We set the table over and over again during the cold 
spell, watching from the windows when it rained. The 
birds cared little if the crumbs were wet. Every winter 
since then we have remembered to do the same thing; 
and even in summer, especially in nesting time, we 
do not forget the restaurant. 
We usually set the table at night, the last thing 
before going to bed, as some careful and busy house- 
wives do, and you should hear and see the fun at sun- 
rise. The table will be all covered with birds of every 
size and color living near, and they are as good-natured 
as can be. Food by the saucerful disappears in almost 
a twinkling, and the birds surround the empty board 
when they are done, tamer than ever, and asking in 
coaxing tones for “more.” 
There have come to be more birds in that corner of 
the yard than anywhere else, Just as you see a street 
thronged at meal-time about a popular eating-house in 
the city. We have learned a great deal about the 
tastes of different birds. Some of them have a “sweet 
tooth” as truly as any child, for they always choose the 
cookies or gingerbread. 
One day we thought we would see how far they really 
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