and which some of the birds like best 

 of all. 



Then cock-robin was fastened securely 

 to a limb. "For he can be butler," Teddy 

 said, "and make it seem nice and 

 'homey' to all the birds." 



By eight o'clock everything- was in 

 readiness. Cock-robin sat sedately on 

 the top bough where the red tin soldier 

 had stood so long, and if the winter birds 

 wondered why he hadn't gone South long 

 before with his mates they were too po- 

 lite to say so. 



The ground was now covered with sev- 

 eral feet of snow, and, as Mamma had 

 said, it made seed hunting quite difficult. 

 So many of the birds which usually kept 

 in the fields were forced to go nearer 

 dwellings in hopes of finding a dinner. 

 Besides, the English sparrows, who are 

 such gossips, had told the story of the 

 invitation far and wide, so cock-robin 

 had many callers that day. He never 

 once forgot dignity and stood up stiff 

 and prim, an excellent quality in a but- 

 ler. He only bowed when the wind blew. 



Of course the English sparrows came 

 first of all, and would have eaten up 

 everything if Fred and Harry, who had 

 secured a point of vantage in a neighbor- 

 ing tree, hadn't frightened them so thor- 

 oughly with an air gun that they flew 

 away into a park nearby to talk it over 

 and try to decide what it all meant. Here 

 their attention was distracted by other 

 things and they forgot to return until 

 nearly dark. 



The first real polite callers were two 

 j uncos dressed in suits of gray with low 

 cut vests of white. They pecked timidly 

 in the baskets; then, alarmed at their 

 own boldness, flew away; but, gaining 

 courage after a time, returned and had a 

 great feast. When they left they shook 

 hands* with cock-robin and thanked him 

 for his entertainment. Fortunately it was 

 just time for cock-robin to give a bow. 

 Perhaps you think they didn't shake 

 hands, but they shook hands the way 



birds do, which is a good and sensible 

 way, no doubt. 



The tree sparrows who came next made 

 a great chatter. They all wore a little 

 black breast-pin right on their white shirt 

 fronts and stayed and talked a long time. 

 "Too-la-it," "Too-la-it," they said, which 

 Teddy behind the muslin curtain inter- 

 preted as a series of compliments upon 

 the entertainment and cookery. 



The chickadees wore black hats and 

 neckties, and said "chickadee, chickadee," 

 so that Teddy knew them at once. They 

 did this instead of leaving a card, as 

 some polite people do at receptions. But 

 the finest dressed caller came last of all, 

 just as they do at real receptions, and I 

 am glad of this, for if he had come 

 earlier he might have made the plainer 

 dressed birds feel uncomfortable. 



He wore a suit of rosy red through- 

 out, except a black cravat at the throat, 

 and he did one thing which I am sure 

 you can't approve any more than Teddy 

 did. He let his wife come in an olive 

 green gown, and she looked really quite 

 plain beside her husband. The name of 

 this fine bird was the cardinal, but he 

 did not keep telling it, as did the chicka- 

 dees. He knew he was so handsome that 

 Teddy would be sure to find out who he 

 was. He occasionally said "tsip," 

 "tsip," which Teddy interpreted to her 

 own satisfaction. 



If Teddy had lived in some other place 

 besides Illinois she might have had dif- 

 ferent guests at her Christmas dinner. 



When nearly dark the English spar- 

 rows came back, and finished the feast 

 to the last crumb, so Teddy didn't have 

 any work the next day to clear the table. 

 When they had all finished and flown 

 away, Teddy was tired enough to want to 

 go to bed, but Fred had to bring in cock- 

 robin so she would give him a squeeze 

 and ask him if it wasn't the nicest Christ- 

 mas he ever had. Of "course he agreed, 

 so Teddy went to sleep quite contented, 

 resolving in her own mind to have a 

 Christmas dinner for the birds every year. 

 Laura May Burgess. 



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