96 OUR FRIENDS, THE BIRDS. 
I like the tune, I like the words; 
They seem so true, so free from art, 
So friendly, and so full of heart, 
That if but one of all the birds 
Could be my comrade everywhere, 
My little brother of the air, 
I’d choose the Song Sparrow, my dear, 
Because he’d bless me every year, 
With ‘ Sweet—sweet—sweet— 
very merry cheer.”’ 
This was a surprise to Miss Sweet. She was de- 
lighted with the selection, the excellence of the recita- 
tion and the spirit which prompted the pupils to learn 
the poem. 
“T think the Song Sparrow is a cute little bird, 
don’t you, Miss Sweet?” said “‘Querist.” 
‘““ He is a great favorite with me, and I think is 
almost as well known as the Robin and Bluebird, both 
on account of his early arrival and sweet song.” 
‘“‘T wish he was not so timid,” said “Baby.” ‘The 
Hair Bird will come close up to the steps for crumbs but 
the Song Sparrow is too shy.” 
‘‘T saw one yesterday in the public garden,” said 
a boy who had recently moved from Boston, ‘and he 
was singing as loud as he could. I was surprised, it is 
so early.” 
Several of the pupils had heard them, as they had 
begun to arrive in large numbers, and some of the birds 
were already beginning to seek a good place for a nest. 
Laura said: “‘ Last year a pair built their nest in a 
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