2i6 More Tales of the Birds 



and if you want the policeman in June, here he 

 is." And the hearty Parson took his leave, the 

 Poet escorting him down the garden, where a 

 blackbird was still singing. They stopped and 

 listened. 



"Beautiful, isn't it?" said the Parson. "It's 

 a pity they're such rascals. I'm an enthusiastic 

 gardener, and I have to choose between my 

 garden and the birds, and I think you'll have 

 to choose too." 



"Is there no compromise ? " asked the Poet 

 mildly. 



"Not for an enthusiast," said the Parson, 

 decidedly. 



" Then my choice is made already," said the 

 Poet. And so they parted. 



So the birds built where and when they 

 pleased, and brought up crowds of hungry young 

 ones ; the old gardener kept his word and his 

 place. They throve upon a juicy diet of grubs 

 and caterpillars, and the garden throve in getting 

 rid of these ; so that by May it was such an 

 Eden as even the Poet's fancy had never 

 dreamed of. His ear was daily soothed with a 



