THE RED RUMPED TANAGER. 



I have just been singing my 

 morning song, and I wish you 

 could have heard it. I think 

 you would have liked it. 



I always sing very early in 

 the morning. I sing because I 

 am happy, and the people like 

 to hear me. 



My home is near a small 

 stream, where there are low 

 woods and underbrush along 

 its banks. 



There is an old dead tree 

 there, and just before the sun is 

 up I fly to this tree. 



I sit on one of the branches 

 and sing for about half an hour. 

 Then I fly away to get my 

 breakfast. 



I am very fond of fruit. 

 Bananas grow where I live, and 

 I like them best of all. 



I eat insects, and sometimes I 

 fly to the rice fields and swing 

 on the stalks and eat rice. 



The people say I do much 

 harm to the rice, but I do not 

 see why it is wrong for me to 

 eat it, for I think there is enough 

 for all. 



I must go now and get my 

 breakfast. If you ever come 

 to see me I will sing to you. 



I will show you my wife, too. 

 She looks just like me. Be sure 

 to get up very early. If you do 

 not, you will be too late for my 

 song. 



"Birds, Birds ! ye are beautiful things, 

 With your earth-treading feet and your cloud-cleaving wings. 

 Where shall man wander, and where shall he dwell — 

 Beautiful birds — that ye come not as well ? 

 Ye have nests on the mountain, all rugged and stark, 

 Ye have nests in the forest, all tangled and dark ; 

 Ye build and ye brood 'neath the cottagers' eaves, 

 And ye sleep on the sod, 'mid the bonnie green leaves ; 

 Ye hide in the heather, ye lurk in the brake, 

 Ye dine in the sweet flags that shadow the lake ; 

 Ye skim where the stream parts the orchard decked land, 

 Ye dance where the foam sweeps the desolate strand." 



3° 



