LITTLE BOY BLUE 



"Dear little blossoms down under the snow, 

 You must be weary of winter, I know. 

 Hark! while I sing you a message of cheer, 

 Summer is coming, and Springtime is here." 



It was Mr. Bluebird swinging in the 

 tall apple tree, and singing so sweetly 

 and so happily. He looked very hand 

 some in his new spring suit. His blue 

 cap and coat fitted him perfectly, and his 

 russet red vest, with its trimming of soft 

 white feathers, could not have been im 

 proved upon. His little wife was less 

 gayly dressed, but he thought her the 

 sweetest and dearest little mate in the 

 world, and so he was telling her as they 

 perched on the twig together. She had 

 just arrived from the South, but Mr. 

 Bluebird, as is the custom with most 

 gentlemen birds, had come on some days 

 before, and been busy house-hunting. 



"I think, my dear," he said, after they 

 had made love in their own sweet fash 

 ion, "we cannot find a better house than 

 the one we lived in last year. It is so 

 private and snug and cozy, too. Besides 

 it will save us a lot of work, for it needs 

 only a bit of cleaning." 



"Oh, you lazy fellow," laughed Mrs. 

 Bluebird, "you do like to find your home 

 ready-made, don't you? I quite agree 

 with you about using the old nesting 

 place, though." 



"It is settled, then," said Mr. Bluebird, 

 "and I think we'd better get to work 

 right away." 



Mrs. Bluebird thought so too, and soon 

 both were busy cleaning out the hole in 

 the old apple tree, and gathering grass 

 and feathers to make their nest. They 

 were very cheerful little workers, singing 

 sweetly all the while, for both were 

 thinking of the babies who were coming 

 to fill the tiny cradle, and their hearts 

 were bubbling over with happiness. 

 When the small home was quite finished, 

 and they had examined it on all sides 

 with much satisfaction, they flew off to 

 gether for a little rest. Just then, Mr. 

 and Mrs. English Sparrow came that 

 way. They had decided that the maple 



tree was not a good place to build in. 

 and they were on the lookout for some 

 thing better. Mr. English Sparrow took 

 a peep at the bluebirds' hole and thought 

 it a very nice place indeed. But his wife 

 was not satisfied with a peep only. She 

 stepped right in, as independent as you 

 please, and said it suited her so well she 

 meant to stay there. Then the naughty 

 thieves tore up the dear little nest Mr. 

 and Mrs. Bluebird had made with so 

 much care. You can imagine how the 

 little owners felt when they came back 

 and saw the dreadful thing that had 

 happened. 



It took Mr. Bluebird just one second 

 to decide what to do, for, with all his 

 dainty ways he is a pugilist when he 

 fights for his home, and his little wife 

 is amply able to help him. But the spar 

 rows were inside and had the advantage. 

 They sputtered and scolded at such a 

 rate that, in spite of their pluck, the poor 

 little "Blue people" had to go away. 

 They didn't go far, though, and after 

 awhile the Sparrows had to come out. 

 Then there was a battle you may be sure, 

 but this time the Bluebirds had the best 

 of it and got their home back again. 

 Mrs. Bluebird was sad over her ruined 

 nest, but her little husband comforted 

 her in his sweet way, and it was soon 

 fixed as nice as ever. After that one of 

 them always stayed at home on guard. 



Before very long the great wonder had 

 happened and five pretty blue eggs lay in 

 the soft little nest. Mrs. Bluebird began 

 her tiresome setting, and her devoted lit 

 tle husband perched on a twig near her, 

 and sang his sweetest songs to cheer her. 

 He also brought her the juiciest worms 

 and the fattest grubs and never seemed 

 tired of trying to please her. When at 

 last the five wee babies came, it seemed 

 as though he could not hold his happi 

 ness, and so he sang and sang. In her 



220 



