MY SUMMER ACQUAINTANCES. 



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I Spent last summer in a quiet, old 

 country place where my only near neigh- 

 bors were the birds, rabbits and squir- 

 rels, but I formed many pleasant ac- 

 quaintances among these, and the dear- 

 est among them was a pair of little gold- 

 finches that built their nest in the top- 

 most bough of a young pear tree that 

 overshadowed the porch where I spent 

 a great part of my time. 



I did not discover the nest until the 

 little ones were alreadv hatched. The 

 early June days had been cloudy and 

 cool and had kept me shut in, so I did 

 not have the pleasure of watching my 

 little neighbors build their home. The 

 nest was so carefully hidden among the 

 leafy boughs that no one would have 

 suspected it was there. My attention 

 was first arrested to it one morning by 

 the faint cries of young birds, and on 

 looking up I saw a little goldfinch 

 perched on the topmost bough of the 

 pear tree, bending fondly over what I 

 knew must be the nest. She lingered but 

 a moment and then darted away to an 

 apple tree near by, where I discovered 

 her mate. He was a tiny little fellow, 

 not much larger than she, but his jacket 

 seemed a brighter yellow and his head 

 and the tips of his wings a glossier black. 

 They rested a moment, seemingly in 

 earnest conversation, then both darted 

 away to a thicket of tall grass and weeds 

 that grew along the banks of a creek that 

 ran near by. 



It was but a few moments until the 

 little mother was back again and in her 

 tiny yellow beak I saw the dainty morsel 

 she was carrying to the hungry little 

 family. 



All day long, back and forth, from the 

 nest to the thicket she flew, but the hun- 

 gry little ones never seemed tO' be satis- 

 fied. The father bird did not come very 

 often, and I wondered if he was spend- 

 ing his time in idleness or seeking pleas- 



ure for himself, while the poor, little 

 mother was working so arduously for the 

 support of the family. But I hardly 

 think this was the case, for he always 

 came from this same thicket and they 

 always seemed con^dential and happy. 

 He would rest himself daintily on some 

 branch overlooking the nest, and with 

 many quips and turns watch the mother 

 as she fed the hungry little ones. Some- 

 times he would bring food himself and 

 then they would fly away together. I 

 think he was searching for the food and 

 probably gathering it, for sometimes 

 Mistress Goldfinch would be gone but 

 a moment until she would return with 

 the food. 



Every day the -same scenes were re- 

 peated, only the cries of the little ones 

 grew more clamorous, and I could see 

 their gaping mouths as they stretched 

 their necks, each one trying to convince 

 the mother that he was the hungriest 

 bird in the nest. The little mother was 

 always patient and loving — what a les- 

 son to us who SO' often chafe and fret 

 under the petty trials of every day life ! 

 As the days went by the young birds 

 grew bolder and I could see their little 

 yellow bodies as thev fluttered and pushed 

 themselves near the edge of the nest, 

 and I knew that there would soon be an 

 empty nest in the pear tree. 



It was one afternoon, about ten days 

 after I discovered the nest, that the les- 

 sons in flying began. The father and 

 mother would fly from the nest to some 

 twig a few feet from the nest and then 

 back again, then from twig to twig with 

 many little chirps as if saying, ''Don't 

 yoiL see how easy it is? All you have 

 to do is to try." Then the boldest little 

 fellow would perch himself on the edge 

 of the nest, flutter his little wings, sit 

 still for a minute, and then roll back into 

 the nest as if it was too much for him. 

 Then the father and mother would re- 



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