40 OUR FRIENDS, THE BIRDS. 
’Nd even in midwinter, when the trees ’r brown ’nd bare, 
’Nd th’ frosty flakes ’re fallin’ thro’ th’ bitter bitin’ air, 
The Sparrer still is with us t’ cheer us when we’re glum, 
Fer his presence is a prophecy of better days t’ come. 
The Sparrer’s never idle, fer he has t’ work his way; 
You'll always find him hustlin’ long before the break o’ day; 
He’s plucky, patient, cheerful, ’nd he seems t’ say t’man, 
I know I’m very little, but I do the best I can. 
What more can you ’nd I do than t’ always do our best? 
Are we any more deservin’ than the little British pest ? 
So, when you talk of ‘‘feathered kings,” you’d better save a 
crown 
Fer the honest little Sparrer, with his modest coat o’ brown. 
QUESTIONS. 
What do you think of the English Sparrows ? 
Are they quarrelsome? 
Did you ever see them fighting other birds? 
Have you ever watched them building their nests? 
Tell some incident of Sparrow life that you have 
observed. 
Longfellow says: 
‘“The Sparrows chirped as if they still were proud 
‘Their race in Holy Writ should mentioned be.’’ 
To what does he refer ? 
