quiet way Mrs. Bluebird was just as 

 happy. She really thought her children 

 the prettiest birdies that had ever lived. 

 I daresay we would have thought them 

 the hungriest, for the first thing they did 

 was to open their big mouths and holler 

 for something to eat. 



Boy Blue, who came out of his egg 

 first, and was the biggest, hollered the 

 loudest. He really was a very greedy 

 fellow, and vain too. Long before he 

 could stand on his rickety little legs, he 

 used to try to preen his feathers as he 

 had seen his father and mother do. This 

 was really very funny, for he had no 

 feathers to preen, only quills with the 

 ends of feathers sticking out. He next 

 tried to fly before he had had a lesson, 

 and one day he managed to climb to the 

 edge of the nest, but he could only flap 

 his wings and hang on for dear life. 



He w^ould have fallen out entirely if 

 his mother had not come home just then, 

 and pushed him in the nest with her bill. 



Afterwards she gave him a good pecking, 

 which is a bird whipping. This was not 

 much of a lesson though, for a few morn- 

 ings later Mr. and Mrs. Bluebird re- 

 turned from market to find Boy Blue 

 quite out of the nest, and fighting with 

 Bobby Sparrow. Mr. English Sparrow 

 was looking on, and the sight of him 

 made Mr. Bluebird so angry that there 

 might have been another fight, had not 

 their common enemy, Mr. Kingbird, 

 come flying along, and sent them all to 

 the safety of their nests. 



"Never let this happen again," said 

 Boy Blue's father, when they were home 

 once more. "English Sparrows have bad 

 reputations, and it is best not to be seen 

 in their company. I don't wish you to be 

 a coward, but a self-respecting bluebird 

 fights only for his home and his family. 

 Always remember that." And Boy Blue 

 replied very meekly that he "would try." 



Louise Jamison. 



BIRD LEGENDS IN RHYME 



THE BLUEBIRD 



Fair tune warbler of the early spring, 

 Tell us the secret of your mystic charm ! 

 How do you bind our ever willing hearts, 

 Till fain to banish all that does thee harm? 



Is it your happy, ever iovous song, 



That to our hearts brings such a wealth of cheer? 



Is it that you're the harbinger of spring 



And tell us that the summer time is near ? 



Or IS it that you wear a coat of blue — 

 So like our heaven above where best hopes lie? 

 I think 'tis this, we love you best of all 

 Because you seem a bit of God's blue sky. 



Sometimes we like this story to repeat, 

 That angels fashioned you in heaven above — 

 And sent you down to warm earth's aching heart 

 With messages of cheerfulness and love. 



While dropping through the bright blue skies to us, 

 Your fluttering wings took on their dainty hue; 

 When to your tender breast the brown earth gave 

 Her touch, for very love of you. 



— Edith Drury Lenington. 



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