THE BIBDS BEFOEB UNCLE SAM 111 



4. Our beak is our trowel, for mortar we took 



From bank and creek and rill, 

 With bill and feet we must carve the soft rock, 

 The sand-bank under the hill. 



5. Our homes on the rafters and under the eaves, 



Break not, like cruel fools. 



In hill, crag, and rock we have quarried our caves 

 With humble and feeble tools. 



[Girl of eight to twelve, short reddish brown gimp, waist brick- 

 red, skirt and wings dark blue.] 



The Bluebird 



I'm loved by all the children, 



I have but little to say ; 

 Pray, boys, just keep the sparrows 



And all the cats away. 



[Girl of six to ten, waist reddish brown, skirt and wings mili- 

 tary blue.] 



The English Sparrow 



1. Jip, jip, jip ! Who talked about sparrows ? 

 Who said, Keep the sparrows away? 



You fellows here shooting with arrows 

 Couldn't hit the biggest old jay. 



2. I come just from Washington city, 

 And there I had the gayest old time ; 

 I sang Uncle Sam a fine ditty, 



He made out my papers in rhyme. 



