t2 OUR FRIENDS, THE BIRDS. 
when I went to look again, they had moved out and 
taken their family with them.” 
Miss Sweet recited J. Russell Taylor’s verses about 
the Bluebird, and other poems were recited by the 
pupils: 
Ere yet the fields were green with winter wheat, 
Before I thought to see the earliest bird, 
In the unbudded maple tops I heard 
The Bluebirds’ jubilant gossip, low and sweet, 
And full of bubbling merriment discreet 
Withheld from perfect utterance, for fear 
The cold should rage again, if he should hear, 
With all his whining winds and icy sleet, 
And snow the orchard full of mocking bloom, 
Round their blue wings. Seductive was their glee, 
So I was glad at heart to list to these 
Elusive voices, bodiless ecstasy, 
And delicate tinklings from old withered trees 
That marked the term of winter and his doom. 
THE FIRST BLUEBIRD OF SPRING. 
BY GILBERT S. EVERHART. 
Hark ! hark ! I hear a Bluebird sing ! 
His voice rings through the purple air, 
And tells me that the hand of spring 
Is weaving garlands fresh and fair, 
In mossy dell, or frowning fell, 
And strewing blossoms everywhere. 
