ing his chick-a-de-dee!

He had not been singing that tune very long,
When Emily heard him, so loud was his song.
"Oh, sister, look out of the window!" said she,
"Here's a dear little bird, singing chick-a-de-dee!

"Poor fellow! he walks in the snow and the sleet
And has neither stockings nor shoes on his feet,
I wonder what makes him so full of his glee,
And why he keeps singing, his chick-a-de-dee.

"If I were a barefooted snowbird, I know,
I would not stay out in the cold and the snow.
I pity him so! Oh, how cold he must be,
And yet he keeps singing his chick-a-de-dee.

"Oh, mother, do get him some stockings and shoes,
And a nice little frock, and a hat, let him choose.
I wish he'd come into the parlour, and see
How warm we would make him, poor chick-a-de-dee!"

The bird had flown down for some sweet crumbs of bread,
And heard every word little Emily said.
"How funny I'd look in that costume!" thought he,
And he laughed, as he warbled his chick-a-de-dee.

"I am grateful," said he, "for the wish you express,
But I have no occasion for such a fine dress.
I'd rather remain with my little limbs free,
Than to hobble about singing chick-a-de-dee.

"There is One, my dear child, though I cannot tell who,
Has clothed me already, and warm enough, too.
Good morning! Oh, who are so happy as we?"
And away he flew, singing his chick-a-de-dee.

[1] From "The Second Reader--of the Rational Method In Reading."

HOW THE BIRDS GOT THEIR FEATHERS

(IROQUOIS MYTH)

That evening, as the family sat beside the hearth, Phyllis thought of
the brave little chickadees out in the fir-trees.

"I wonder if they are really warm enough," she said. "Do feathers make
a warm dress, mother? Why do birds have feathers instead of fur?"

"I have heard the story that the Indians tell of how the birds got
their feathers," said mother. "Bring your chairs closer and I will
tell the story to you."

So the children drew their chairs up into the firelight, and listened
to this little Indian story:

"Once some little Indian children," began the mother, "gathered about
the fire inside their deerskin wigwam and begged their mother for a
story.

"Each little Indian was wrapped in a bright coloured blanket. Each
little Indian wore long turkey buzzard feathers in his hair.

"The Indian mother looked at her baby braves proudly. She thought of
the time when each of the chi