and which all the world likes,
for to be cheered and encouraged along the pathway of life is like a
pleasant medicine to my weary and discouraged fellow citizens. For you
must know I am a citizen, as my friend Dr. Coues calls me, and all my
relatives. He and Mrs. Mabel Osgood Wright have written a book about
us called "Citizen Bird," and in it they have supported us in all our
rights, which even you children are beginning to admit we have. You are
kinder to us than you used to be. Some of you come quickly to our rescue
from untaught and thoughtless boys who, we think, if they were made to
know how sensitive we are to suffering and wrong, would turn to be our
friends and protectors instead. One dear boy I remember well (and he is
considered a hero by the Song Sparrows) saved a nest of our birdies from
a cruel school boy robber. Why should not all strong boys become our
champions? Many of them have great, honest, sympathetic hearts in their
bosoms, and, if we can only enlist them in our favor, they can give us a
peace and protection which for years we have been sighing. Yes, sighing,
because our hearts, though little, are none the less susceptible to all
the asperities--the terrible asperities of human nature. Papa will tell
you what I mean: you would not understand bird language.

Did you ever see my nest? I build it near the ground, and sometimes,
when kind friends prepare a little box for me, I occupy it. My song is
quite varied, but you will always recognize me by my call note, _Chek!
Chek! Chek!_ Some people say they hear me repeat "Maids, maids, maids,
hang on your teakettle," but I think this is only fancy, for I can sing
a real song, admired, I am sure, by all who love

SONG SPARROW.

THE CUCKOO.

Our first introduction to the Cuckoo was by means of the apparition
which issued hourly from a little German clock, such as are frequently
found in country inns. This particular clock had but one dial hand, and
the exact time of day could not be determined by it until the appearance
of the Cuckoo, who, in a squeaking voice, seemed to announce that it was
just one hour later or earlier, as the case might be, than at his last
appearance. We were puzzled, and remember fancying that a sun dial,
in clear weather, would be far more satisfactory as a time piece.
"Coo-coo," the image repeated, and then retired until the hour hand
should summon him once more.

To very