Preening my Feathers 45 



Fessor laughed when I tried to spruce 

 up and preen my feathers. But I have 

 found on his desk something he wrote, 

 and I shall let you read it for yourselves. 

 He does n't tell, though, how he used to 

 sit there and laugh and laugh and laugh, 

 until sometimes I almost thought he 'd 

 laugh his head off. And why he should 

 laugh to see a tiny little bird like me 

 make myself look nice, I don't know. 

 He used to spend time enough himself 

 some days in making himself look neat. 

 He 'd put on his dress-suit and his 

 pretty tie, and see that his boots were 

 so finely polished, and all that kind of 

 thing, so why should he laugh so 

 at me ? 



This is what he wrote : 



" Some days she will come and preen her 

 feathers by my side as I write. It is her joy 



