68 BIKDS AND POETS 



ments, their pass- words from our midst, as from the 

 veriest solitude ! They have peculiar calls, whistles, 

 signals, by which they communicate with each other 

 at long distances, like birds or wild creatures. And 

 there is as genuine a wildness about these notes and 

 calls as about those of a fox or coon. 



The boy is a savage, a barbarian, in his taste, — 

 devouring roots, leaves, bark, unripe fruit, etc. ; and 

 in the kind of music or discord he delights in, — of 

 harmony he has no perception. He has his fashions 

 that spread from city to city. In one of our large 

 cities the rage at one time was an old tin can with 

 a string attached, out of which they tortured the 

 most savage and ear-splitting discords. The police 

 were obliged to interfere and suppress the nuisance. 

 On another occasion, at Christmas, they all came 

 forth with tin horns, and nearly drove the town 

 distracted with the hideous uproar. 



Another savage trait of the boy is his untruthful- 

 ness. Corner him, and the chances are ten to one 

 he will lie his way out. Conscience is a plant of 

 slow growth in the boy. If caught in one lie, he 

 invents another. I know a boy who was in the 

 habit of eating apples in school. His teacher finally 

 caught him in the act, and, without removing his eye 

 from him, called him to the middle of the floor. 



"I saw you this time," said the teacher. 



" Saw me what 1 " said the boy, innocently. 



"Bite that apple," replied the teacher. 



"No, sir," said the rascal. 



"Open your mouth;" and from its depths the 



