! 68 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



THE PINE TREE ACADEMY. 



ALL the birdies went to school, 

 In a pine tree, dark and cool, 

 At its foot a brook was flowing, 

 The teacher was a crow, 

 And what he did not know, 

 You may be sure was not worth knowing. 



Their satchels are hanging up tidy and neat, 



They smooth down their feathers and wipe off their feet, 



While the wind through the tree-tops goes creeping. 



" Speak up loud " says the crow, 



" I can't hear, as you know, 

 While the branches are swaying and creaking." 



They are taught the very best way to fly, 

 To catch the insect that goes buzzing by; 

 How to cock the head when beginning to sing. 



" I've a cold," says the crow, 



" Or else I would show, 

 How the nightingale does when she makes the woods ring." 



The books are made of maple leaves, 

 For paper, bark from white-birch trees, 

 And for pencil each uses a stick. 



" When you write," says the crow, 



" Be both careful and slow, 

 Make your letters look graceful, not thick." 



Every birdie builds a nest, 



In the place each thinks the best, 



While the teacher gives good sound advice. 



"All the stocks," says the crow, 



"You must lay in a row 

 Before using one, look at it twice." 



All at once, with a cold blast 



The rain comes falling, thick and fast, 



While the old pine tree groans in the gale. 



" School is closed," says the crow, 



" You must all quickly go, 

 But to-morrow, come back without fail." 



V. E. SCHARFF. 



