could do — was in my swift and silent 

 wings. 



"It seemed," he went on, his great eyes 

 blazing at the recollection, "as if all the 

 birds in the woods joined the mob, friend 

 and foe flying wing to wing, the most 

 innocent seed bird and the bloodiest thief 

 fighting side by side, and I had to buffet 

 them with wing and claw, though they 

 kept beyond reacii of my beak," he added 

 proudly, and he passed his great feather- 

 clad claw caressingly down his polished 

 black beak, curved like a scimitar, and 

 as strong and sharp. 



"Thou knowest, my beautiful one," he 

 continued, "how the blue jay and the 

 woodpecker fight one another, but to- 

 night they joined forces as if they had 

 been friends from the dawning of crea- 

 tion; and when the butcher bird cried 



out, 'He ate three of my children yester- 

 day,' the titmouse — forgetting the thorn 

 on which that same butcher bird impaled 

 her first husband in the early summer — 

 replied in fullest smypathy, 'And he stole 

 one of my lovely eggs only a week ago,' 

 and then she screamed with all her tiny 

 might and flew at my head as boldly as 

 if she had been an eagle. The little 

 pests !" 



"Never mind, my hero," murmured the 

 lady owl as- fondly as a coo dove, "a man 

 has his mosquitoes, a dog has his fleas, 

 there is a horsefly for the horse, and these 

 little birds are our mosquitoes, our fleas 

 and our flies. Who-who-who," she stam- 

 mered in her rhetorical flight ; "who has 

 not his troubles in this world?" 



"Who-who-who," echoed the owl. 

 S. E. McKee. 



TO A NUTHATCH, 



Shrewd little hunter of woods all gray, 

 Whom I meet on my walk of a winter day, 

 You're busy inspecting each cranny and hole 

 In the ragged bark of yon hickory bole; 

 You intent on your task, and I on the law 

 Of your wonderful head and gymnastic claw! 



The woodpecker well may despair of this feat — 

 Only the fly with you can compete! 

 So much is clear; but I fain would know 

 How you can so reckless and fearless go, 

 Head upward, head downward, all one to you, 

 Zenith and nadir the same to your view? 



— Edith Thomas. 



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