OUR HOME BIRDS. 
143 
more quiet way. As to the birds, there seemed to be 
about a thousand of them on every tree, and they 
sang and flew and chattered as though wondering 
among themselves who these intruders w T ere, and 
what they had come for. 
“ Oh, listen, listen !” cried Edith. “ I hear a kit- 
tie, a dear little kittle ! There, right in that bush, 
Miss Harson : don’t you hear it ?” 
The governess listened for a moment, and then she 
replied, “ It does sound very much like it, dear, but 
I think your kittie has wings.” 
“ Wings!” exclaimed the little girls in amazement, 
while Malcolm cried out disdainfully, “ An old cat- 
bird ! Hallo ! there he is now, with his ‘ me-ouw ! 
me-ouw !’ ” 
Clara and Edith looked eagerly, but the bird was 
gone. There were many more of them, however, in 
the woods, and every now and then they would hear 
that queer call. Miss Harson promised to tell them 
about this new feathered acquaintance whenever they 
were ready to rest ; and having found a particularly 
pleasant spot at the foot of a beech tree that would 
accommodate them all, she placed the luncheon-bas- 
ket near and spread a large shawl on the ground for 
the party to sit on. Then, glancing from the book in 
her hand to the book of Nature around and above 
her, she waited for her little audience to assemble. 
