XXXI. THE SONG-BIRDS OF THE FARM 
“The woods were filled so full of song 
There seemed no room for sense of wrong.” 
‘ —Tennyson. 
Nothing is more natural than that we should be interested 
in birds. Their appeal to us is manifold. Their colors are 
beautiful, and the texture and design of their garb are elegant 
beyond comparison. Their sprightliness is wonderful. They 
flit from morning till night unceasingly, and traverse the air 
with a freedom that often moves us to say, enviously, with 
Darius Green, “Birds can fly, and why can’t I?” When we 
shall have “conquered the air’, our flying bids fair to be 
serious work rather than play, such as theirsis. Their songs 
are the finest vocal expressions of the animal world—expres- 
sions apparently of contentment, of tender sentiments and of 
exuberant joy. Their nests show fine discrimination in the 
selection and use of materials, artistic sense of decorative 
values, and in their construction they disclose the elements of 
basketry and carpentry, and of both plastic and textile art. 
Their family life is nearly ideal; the fidelity of mates to each 
other and the devotion of parents to their brood being such 
as human society aspires to, but has not yet fully attained. 
And if all these things were not enough, there would still 
remain the practical consideration that birds aid us in our 
agriculture. They feed on insect pests of field and orchard: 
and if any one were so devoid of sentiment as not to like a 
robin singing from the housetop, he might still appreciate the 
bird when found devouring cutworms in the garden. It is 
not economic, but esthetic values, however, that are to be the 
subject of this study. Let us get acquainted with the birds 
dwelling near us for the sake of the pleasure to be had from 
personally knowing creatures so beautiful, so tuneful and so 
artful. 
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