CHAPTER IX. 



BIRD LIFE. 



A Bird Paradise is our garden. I don't 

 wonder for it is a Paradise to us, and Paradise 

 without birds would hardly be spelled with a 

 capital P. Here is just what they want, food 

 and water, shade and shelter, lawn and tree, 

 and above all protection. We permit no one 

 to approach the nest while the mother bird is 

 on it or near it. Cats not allowed on the 

 premises. Lionel knows this and they know it. 

 Our birds fly about him, feed at his side, and 

 sing in the bushes just above him. We hail the 

 birds and give them fruit and shelter for their 

 songs. What music they give from early morn 

 till dewy eve! Often our visitors say "why 

 don't you protect your cherries?" And Ruth 

 is very quick to answer, "they are the wages 

 of our orchestra." Somehow the birds seem to 

 hear and know it all and make another dash, 

 capturing the reddest and plumpest cherries 

 and fly into a neighboring tree and eat with a 

 Twittering relish and then comes a ravishing 

 song in whole or in fragments. "There, don't 

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