The Audubon Societies 107 



All.— The Robin ! 



Rebecca. — Well, as you know, we have some trees in our back yard, and I have 

 been trying to attract the birds this year. 



Gertrude. — Oh, tell us what you did ! I always put crumbs out for them. 



Rebecca. — I nailed a tin cup filled with sugar and water in one tree, and another 

 with crumbs in a second tree. I also fastened bones in the branches, and a piece of suet 

 as large as your two hands, and you should have seen the result. The Blue Jay arrived 

 with his outlandish voice, but handsome blue coat and topknot, and the little Chick-a- 

 dee-dee-dee, and the Junco who stays with us all winter, and now the dear Robins. 

 They have built their nest of mud and straw, not so pretty as the Oriole's hanging nest 

 to be sure, but it is very interesting to watch the family life in it. The mother Robin 

 is an excellent disciplinarian; she visits each child in turn with a delicious worm, and 

 if any youngster is inclined to be piggish, she raps him with her bill. 



Nellie. — [rushing in and fanning herself; all say "Hello!"] I just got off the train! 

 Where do you think I've been? to Riverby on the Hudson, to visit Mr. John Bur- 

 roughs, the greatest living naturalist ! See, I have his picture here. 



Miriam. — What an honor ! but tell us what you did. 



Will. — Beg pardon, but isn't Henry Ford, the auto manufacturer, a friend of Mr. 

 Burroughs? 



Nellie. — Yes, and Mr. Ford is a great lover of birds. His whole estate is one vast 

 bird sanctuary. He has bird-houses and feeding-stations and every known comfort to 

 attract and protect the birds. Well, Mr. Burroughs himself met us at the station. You 

 know he is seventy- nine years old, but you should have seen him crank up his Ford car; 

 he says he has to work or people might think he was getting old. On the way up to his 

 house, he pointed out to us a rare bird's nest, or a delicate flower, or an odd tree that we 

 might not have noticed at all. Then he took us to his famous study in the woods called 

 "Slabsides." You can't imagine what a delightful companion Mr. Burroughs is, — why 

 he knows the name of everything in nature, even the different kinds of rocks ! 



John. — I'm thinking, didn't Mr. Burroughs in his youth live in Washington and 

 know Mr. Lincoln? 



Nellie. — Yes, he had a Government position. 



John. — Well, I wonder if you know that story about Mr. Lincoln and the birds. He 

 and a party of gentlemen were riding off to attend to a business matter of importance, 

 when Mr. Lincoln saw two birds that had fallen out of their nest. After several minutes 

 Mr. Lincoln said, "Gentlemen, I must return and put those two birds back into their 

 nest." 



Will. — All great men seem to have loved birds. Nearly every poet has written 

 about them. Shelley sang of the Skylark, Keats of the Nightingale, and of our own 

 poets, Celia Thaxter's 'Sandpiper,' and Longfellow's 'Birds of Killingworth,' are dear 

 to every one. 



Beth. — Yes, and isn't it Emerson who says, 



"Hast thou named all the birds without a gun? 

 Loved the wood-rose and left it on its stalk? 

 O, be my friend, and teach me to be thine." 



[This simple but suggestive playlet has sufficient action, if well presented, to make an 

 effective part of a Bird and Arbor Day program. Added interest would be gained if 

 the following articles were shown at the proper moment to illustrate the spoken lines: 

 a picture of Audubon and one of his bird pictures if a copy can be secured; a bean- 

 shooter; a picture of the aigrette being torn from the Egret Herons and also, a picture 

 of the Heron in perfect nuptial plumage; a picture of John Burroughs and one of Mr. 

 Ford's bird sanctuary. Hung up on the wall might also be pictures of the various birds 

 mentioned in the playlet with portraits of the poets named and of Abraham Lincoln. 



