play about your garden and flowerbeds 

 ourselves like flowers on wings 

 without any cost to you. We will 

 destroy the wicked insects and worms 

 that spoil your cherries and currants 

 and plums and apples and roses. We 

 will give you our best songs, and make 

 the spring more beautiful and the 

 summer sweeter to you. Every June 

 morning when you go out into the 

 field, Oriole and Bluebird and Black- 

 bird and Bobolink will fly after you, 

 and make the day more delightful to 

 you. And when you go home tired after, 

 sundown Vesper Sparrow will tell you 

 how grateful we are. When you sit 

 down on your porch after dark, Fifebird 

 and Hermit Thrush and Wood Thrush 

 will sing to you; and even Whip-poor- 

 will will cheer you up a little. We 



know where we are safe. In a little 

 while all the birds will come to live 

 in Massachusetts again, and everbody 

 who loves music will like to make a 

 summer home with you." 

 The singers are : 



Brown Thrasher, 

 Robert o'Lincoln, 

 Vesper Sparrow, 

 Hermit Thrush, 

 Robin Redbreast. 

 Song Sparrow, 

 Scarlet Tanager, 

 Summer Redbird, 

 Blue Heron, 

 Humming Bird, 

 Yellow Bird, 

 Whip-poor-will, 

 Water Wagtail, 

 Woodpecker, 

 Pigeon Woodpecker, 

 Indigo Bird, 



Yellow Throat, 

 Wilson's Thrush, 

 Chickadee. 



King Bird, 



Swallow. 



Cedar Bird, 



Cow Bird, 



Martin, 



Veery, 



Vireo, 



Oriole, 



Blackbird, 



Fife Bird, 



Wren, 



Linnet, 



Pewee, 



Phoebe, 



Yoke Bird, 



Lark, 



Sandpiper, 



Chewink. 



THE CAPTIVE'S ESCAPE. 



I saw such a sorrowful sight, my dears, 



Such a sad and sorrowful sight, 

 As I lingered under the swaying vines, 



In the silvery morning light. 

 The skies were so blue and the day was so fair 



With beautiful things untold, 

 You would think no sad and sorrowful thing 



Could enter its heart of gold. 



A fairy-like cage was hanging there, 



So gay with turret and -dome, 

 You'd be sure a birdie would gladly make 



Such a beautiful place its home. 

 But a wee little yellow-bird sadly chirped 



As it fluttered to and fro ; 

 I know it was longing with all its heart 



To its wild-wood home to go. 



I heard a whir of swift-rushing wings, 



And an answering gladsome note; 

 As close to its nestlings prison bars, 



I saw the poor mother bird float. 

 I saw her flutter and strive in vain 



To open the prison door. 

 Then sadly cling with drooping wing 



As if all her hopes were o'er. 



But ere I could reach the prison house 



And let its sweet captive free, 

 She was gone like a yellow flash of light, 



To her home in a distant tree. 

 "Poor birdie," I thought, "you shall surely go, 



When mamma comes back again ;" 

 For it hurt me so that so small a thing 



Should suffer so much of pain. 



And back in a moment she came again 



And close to her darling's side 

 With a bitter-sweet drop of honey dew, 



Which she dropped in its mouth so wide. 

 Then away, with a strange wild mournful note 



Of sorrow, which seemed to say 

 "Goodbye, my darling, my birdie dear, 



Goodbye tor many a day." 



A quick wild flutter of tiny wings, 



A faint low chirp of pain, 

 A throb of the little aching heart 



And birdie was free again. 

 Oh sorrowful anguished mother-heart, 



'Twas all that she could do, 

 She had set it free from a captive's life 



In the only way she knew. 



Foor little birdie! it never will fly 



On tiny and tireless wing, 

 Through the pearly blue of the summer sky, 



Or sing the sweet songs of spring. 

 And I think, little dears, if you had seen 



The same sad sorrowful sight, 

 You never would cage a free wild bird 



To suffer a captive's plight. 



MARY MORRISON. 



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