BIRDS AND BERRIES 



IN 

 MY GRANDMOTHERS GARDEN 



ORTHY, mJeecl, is tte garden tkat is planted, not for 

 beauty alone, but for tlie welfare of Nature s cnildren 

 as ■well. Such a one brings greater pleasure to mm iivno 

 gives aifia. a goodly measure of comfort and enjoyment to 

 tnose exquisite, feathered creatures of the air - the 

 hirds - that take. It throbs v/ith joyous life and color and 

 rare music from scores of tmy throats ^vhen tright ber- 

 ried shrubs ana simple flo'wers and the birds that love 

 them live withm it. One -who loves the flowers is sure to 

 love the birds, for are not they and the butterflies and 

 honeybees and the sunshine generally assembled together 

 m his mind when he dreams of the perfect garden? 



Only one such garden have I ever seen; it lay on 

 the small plot of ground that surrounded my grandmoth- 

 er s cottage. Remembering it as I first sa-w it, shining 

 m the early June sunlight, every leaf and bud a-sparkle, 

 warblers flitting about, robins scurrying over the grass, 

 and the sweet call of the oriole floating from the old 

 elm, I think it vtras the happiest conception of bird gar- 

 den possible. Surely beauty had not been sacrificed m 

 planning this refuge for the birds; indeed, it was quite the 

 quaintest and lovliest of gardens! 



Only fleeting glimpses of its simple charm could be 

 had from the highway, for great clumps of bush honey- 

 suckle and red-tvi^igged dog-wood screened it from veiw, 

 giving it an atmosphere of intimate exclusiveness that was 

 most delightful. Roses and gilliflowers made the air as 

 sweet as the -winds of Arabia; they gre-w profusely as did 



Pa^e Two 



