dangling from a leaf at the very end of a 
spray ; and then it flits off in an up-and- 
down, wavery sort of flight, singing out 
as it flies ‘zi-zi, ‘ Follow, follow me,’ 
and all the other feathery mites answer 
‘zi-zi, as they also launch themselves 
in the air and follow the first one, until 
the air seems full of tiny feathered 
morsels and shrill cries of ‘ zi-zi.. And 
so the game of follow-my-leader goes 
on for months and months, along the 
hedgerow bushes and plants, and through 
the woods and thickets, until the leaves 
turn brown or yellow and then fall off, 
and the berries turn red, and all the 
summer birds, which love the sun and 
the warmth, go away and leave us, Then 
the snow comes, and the rain and the 
hail ; but still the merry game of follow- 
my-leader goes on and on. When the 
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