AT THE GARDEN PARTY. 131 
ing. Somebody has started the story that we swal- 
lows have fleas and other vermin in our nests, and on 
that account we ought not to be allowed to build around 
houses and barns. It is a dreadful story, and so false. 
I wonder how it started. I felt almost too ashamed to. 
come to the party.” 
“Too bad; too bad,” said Mrs. Warbler again. “I 
would not pay any attention to it. Folks will say 
unkind things about us all, if they happen to find just 
one of us in mischief. Of course all birds do have a 
few little mites or fleas in their houses, and they can’t 
help that, any more than those great human people can 
help having house-flies and mosquitoes about them 
where they live. 
“Now some folks think I pick holes in the window 
screens, just because I love to run over them, up and 
down and all around, after the flies. To be sure, I do 
stick my toes through the meshes to hold myself on, 
but what of that? I love to peep through the window 
at people eating breakfast in the morning when the 
flies are stiff with cold on the outside. I can catch my 
game easily then.” 
Just then the new birds came along, and all the rest 
stood in a row to be introduced by Mrs. Mocker. 
“Mr. and Mrs. Bush-tit,” she said, “let me present 
you to all of your neighbors.” 
The strangers shook hands all around, and then the 
birds fell to asking Mr. and Mrs. Bush-tit questions 
in true Yankee style. 
