A HERMIT'S WILD FRIENDS 



to be a lazy, good-for-nothing, shiftless fel- 

 low. Not even a feather did he carry to the 

 new home. However, he had one redeeming 

 quality, he could sing. Somehow, his song 

 seemed to fit into the glorious spring morn- 

 ings, and the listener felt that it was in per- 

 fect harmony with wild flowers, with the 

 drowsy hum of insect life and the tinkling 

 notes of the woodland brook. When the 

 little ones were out of the shell, Mrs. Che- 

 wink had all she could do to supply their 

 wants. She carried bread from the dooryard, 

 and gleaned bugs and beetles in the flower 

 garden. 



I was deeply interested in the food selected 

 by Mrs. Chewink. As for herself, she would 

 never eat bread when she could get cup-cake. 

 I expected that she would feed this favorite 

 food to her babies, and that the sweet food 

 would kill them, or make them sick, if no 

 more. I watched carefully, intending to re- 

 move the cake before the little ones were in- 

 jured. The morning, on which I had pitched 

 to try the experiment, proved to be rainy. 

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