THE OLD HOMESTEAD TALES

THE BLUEBIRDS & THEIR NEIGHBOURS
By Neil Wayne Northey - 1930

Chapter 21

The Adventures of Barney the Shrew

WHISKERS the Mouse was not the only one who moved away from the Granary when Spot the Skunk moved in. There were many other mice who looked for a safer place to live. Some of them investigated the Woodshed by the Grand Old House, but they soon learned that the Wood­shed was not a peaceful place to live. The reason it was not a peaceful place for mice was that Barney the Shrew lived there.

Now, Barney the Shrew was very small. He was the smallest animal that lived on the Old Home­stead, or in North America, for that matter. In fact, he was scarcely as large as a half-grown mouse. We might think that Barney would have feared the friends of Whiskers the Mouse because he was so much smaller, but that was not the case. No, sir When Barney met any of Whiskers' friends, he braced himself by standing with his front feet apart, and challenged anyone to pass. If they did not retreat, there was sure to be a fight; and usually it ended by Barney's making a meal of Mr. Mouse. That was why Whiskers' friends did not stay long when they came to explore the Woodshed They were really afraid of Barney.

Barney the Shrew liked the Woodshed, and in­tended to keep it for his home. You see, Barney was very fond of ants and bugs and sawflies. Whenever Bud Smith cut some wood or carried some into the Grand Old House, there were sure to be a number of wood ants or sawflies or grubs fall out of the wood. After Bud was gone, Barney would steal out and eat them. In fact, Barney spent most of his time both day and night searching for food. Be­sides having a very mean temper, Barney also had an appetite that was never satisfied. Even after Barney had eaten his fill of insects, in a short time he was hungry again. He ate more than any other animal inn comparison with his size, sometimes devouring two or three times his own weight each day. If Barney did not have food, he would have starved to death within two or three days.

That was why Barney must always be looking for something to eat. Sometimes he fought with others of his own family, for he was so ill-tempered and unsociable that he liked to live alone. If he killed another shrew, even though it was as large as himself,  he sometimes ate it at one meal. Yes, Barney certainly did have a ravenous appetite, and no doubt that was what made him so mean. When­ever we eat more than we should, or eat things that are not good for us, we get irritable and ill­tempered. That was just the way it was with Barney.

Barney was never satisfied unless he was eating; and so when he had cleaned up all the ants and sawflies and other food in the Woodshed, he de­cided he would explore the Grand Old House. He was quite sure he would find something there to eat. If insects were scarce, he could always find other things to eat such as flour. Or he might even make a meal of a mouse whenever he was able to find one.

And so Barney left the Woodshed for a visit to the Grand Old House. Of course, Barney did not know that Spot the Skunk had driven many of Whiskers' friends out of the Granary, and that some of them had come to the Grand Old House with the idea of sneaking in whenever the screen door was left open just a crack. Barney did not know that Bud Smith had noticed a large number of mice running around at times, and had been setting traps for them.

It did not take Barney long to find a tiny, hole at the top of the foundation, and crawl inside. Even though Barney's eyes were so small that he could scarcely see, he had a very sensitive nose. His nose was long and covered with long hairs, and he used it a great deal when he was hunting. He moved it from side to side, and if there was an insect or other food near, he was sure to find it. Barney could run up and down the side of a log or wall as easily as he could walk on the ground; and when he was hunt­ing, he hurried here and there, with his long nose working into every hole and crack.

As soon as Barney got into the Grand Old House, the first thing he did was to run here and there looking for something to eat. Of course, Bud Smith saw him. Bud thought he was, a half-grown mouse that had crept in, and that came near to being the end of Barney. Just as Bud was about to strike Barney with a large fly swatter that happened to be handy, he noticed Barney's long nose. It looked just a little like the long nose of a runty pig that had grown a snout entirely out of size for the rest of its body. And so when Bud saw Barney's nose, he knew that Barney was not a common mouse. Even while Bud was watching Barney, he saw him pick up a dead house fly and eat it. Then Bud decided to let Barney live. Anyone who would help him catch flies was welcome.

Bud remembered that he had killed a number of flies on the back porch, and he hurried away to see if he could find some. Soon he returned with a dozenor more, one of which he dropped in front of Barney. Barney thought it was strange that a fly should drop right in front of him, but he asked no questions. After he had eaten it, he sat up and wiggled his nose to see if he could find where it came from. He thought he could smell more flies, and sure enough he could, for Bud was holding another just above Barney's nose.

After that Barney ate the flies from between Bud's fingers as fast as Bud could hold them within reach; and if Bud was a little slow getting them in place, Barney would get very impatient.

It was great sport for Bud; but when he had to go after another supply of flies, along came Hunt­ing Cat and spoiled it all. Most large animals did not care to bother Barney. He had a musky odor that they did not like. But Hunting Cat probably thought Barney was a mouse. He thought he would make a meal of Barney; but sometimes even Hunting Cat missed his mark, just as he was ready to pounce on Barney, Barney grew impatient and decided he would look for some flies himself. Under a door he went, and left Hunting Cat feel­ing foolish indeed.

CHAPTER 22

Hunting Cat Gets Into Trouble

WHEN Barney the Shrew disappeared under the door and left Hunting Cat staring at a crack, it was a big disappointment to Hunting Cat. But Hunting Cat did not sit around and think about his disappointments. Instead, he soon tried something else. In a little while he pushed open the screen door and started toward the Green Meadow. He was not quite sure what he would find to, dine on, but he knew that at that time of year there were Wild Creatures of all kinds in the Green Meadow.

Now, in some ways, Hunting Cat was all right. He helped to keep Whiskers the Mouse and his friends from destroying Farmer Smith's grain, and now and then he would catch a rat. On the other hand, Hunting Cat was not so good. He liked to prowl wherever the Wild Creatures stayed, and he was not at all particular what he killed. He would just as soon murder an innocent song bird as any­thing -rather, in fact. Whenever Hunting Cat started toward the Green Meadow, Bud knew that he had evil in his heart. So Bud tried to keep him at home where he could help scare away the mice.

When Bud came back to feed Barney the Shrew more flies, Barney was gone. Bud had not noticed 'Hunting Cat, and did not know that he had tried to catch Barney. All Bud knew was that Barney was gone. After looking for him awhile, Bud gave up trying to find him, and went out to see how Weaver the Oriole was progressing with his nest.

Bud did not notice Hunting Cat sneaking down through `the tall grass. Hunting Cat had heard Burlingame the Lark calling somewhere in the Green Meadow, and had decided that meadow lark would taste good for a change.

My--real-name's--Burlingame," announced' Mr. Lark from the top of a fence post. "My---real-name's--Burlingame."

Hunting Cat stopped and listened to Burlin­game's fluting voice. He wanted to make quite sure where Burlingame was sitting. Then he would sneak as near as possible and wait until Burlingame flew down to the ground for a play in the grass. Burlingame liked to sneak through grass looking for grasshoppers and other food. His back was striped; and when he walked with his head down to hide his yellow breast, he looked just like the grass, especially after it had dried somewhat. He was very hard to see. But ever so often Burlingame stopped and called his name from the grass, and disclosed his hiding place.

Hunting Cat thought that he could easily sneak up on Burlingame unseen in the grass, for Hunting Cat was striped himself and not easy to see. He knew that somewhere under a clump of grass, with a Hidden Grass Tunnel leading to it, Mrs. Lark had a nest, and not far from where Burlingame was singing. Hunting Cat thought he might find it.

Burlingame was always happy. He was even more good-natured than Robin Red. It was a very cold and storm day indeed when Burlingame did not sing. If the Laughing Yellow Sun appeared for but a moment, you could have heard Burlingame greet him with, "My --real-name's-Burlingame." Of course, Burlingame had many other songs besides just telling his name. He had almost as many as Singer the Warbler. So every time Burlingame sang, he helped Hunting Cat to find him.

Soon Burlingame became hungry, and flew down into the grass. There were many kinds of bugs and grasshoppers moving around, and soon he was having a fine time chasing them. He was so interested he forgot entirely that Hunting Cat or Sharpshin the Hawk or Reddy Fox might be near.

Hunting Cat waited patiently behind a bunch of tangled grass while Burlingame came nearer. He was used to waiting. Sometimes he sat beside the Friendly Burrow of Dodger the Gopher for an hour or more waiting for him to come out. And so he did not mind waiting a while for Burlingame the Lark. He twitched the tip of his tail slightly, and bared his sharp claws. He placed his hind feet firmly on the ground so that he would not slip when he sprang. He was all ready to pounce as soon as Burlingame looked the other way. Sud­denly there was a dull thud on the ground beside Hunting Cat, and a large rock rolled through the grass. Of course, Burlingame was alarmed and flew to the top of a fence post, leaving Hunting Cat to his disappointment.

Hunting Cat knew very well what had hap­pened. He had heard rocks thud around him before when he was in mischief. He knew that Bud had seen him and had thrown a rock at him.

That night when Hunting Cat came to the Grand Old House for his supper, Bud was waiting for him. Bud had a little bell on a collar, and he fas­tened this around Hunting Cat's neck. It was a bell like those Mrs. Smith put on her turkeys to keep Ranger the Coyote from catching them. When Ranger the Coyote heard it, it made him suspicious, and he was afraid to attack Mr. Turkey.

But that was not the reason Bud put the bell on Hunting Cat. Oh no ! He put it on Hunting Cat as a warning to his Feathered Friends. Whenever Hunting Cat tried to sneak up on them, they would hear the bell. If Hunting Cat were just sitting stilll waiting for Whiskers the Mouse, the bell would not ring. And; so Bud thought it was a clever idea.

CHAPTER 23

Weaver Builds His Nest

WEAVER the Oriole was in trouble. When he came to the Old Homestead, the first thing that attracted his attention was the Big Elm that stood in the yard by the Grand Old House. It was just far enough away to be secluded, yet it was sear enough to the Grand Old House so that Weaver the Oriole knew Sharpshin the Hawk would not dare to bother. It was exactly the sort of place that would suit Mrs. Weaver, and Weaver the Oriole knew it.

Like Mr. Bluebird, Weaver the Oriole arrived at the Old Homestead a few days ahead of Mrs. Weaver. While he was waiting for her to come, he had spent the time singing a few snatches of song, and he had also looked around to see if there was plenty of material with which to build a nest.

Mrs. Weaver said frankly that material was too scarce. But the Big Elm suited her so well that she decided to stay. You see, the Weavers build their nest by lacing together all kinds of hair, string, thread, strips of soft bark, and such things. They hang the cradle on a Springy Limb where it is hid­den by the Dancing Little Leaflets, and where the Playful Air Whiffs will swing the Baby Orioles to sleep.

At first the nest building went along without trouble. Weaver had found several bunches of hair that had been pulled out of Old Sorrel's tail when it caught in the fence. And Mrs. Weaver had picked some strings from an old sack that Farmer Smith had wrapped around a little peach tree to prevent Molly Cottontail from chewing its bark. Then, Weaver the Oriole had discovered a number of pieces of thread on the lawn where Bud Smith had cleaned the carpet. It was all very well while it lasted, but soon the Weavers ran out of material. And besides, Mrs. Weaver was not satisfied.

Mrs. Weaver had set her mind on having a fancy nest. She had expected to find some bright-colored thread and things with which to decorate it. In­stead, she had found only dull gray and white and black. And so Mrs. Weaver was not satisfied, and Mr. Weaver was in trouble.

Try as hard as he could, Weaver the Oriole could not find anything that suited Mrs. Weaver. Of course, she used everything that Weaver brought and did not complain, but still she wished for some­thing that would brighten her nest. Perhaps she was just a little vain, and wanted to show Robin Red and the Bluebirds and the rest of her Feath­ered Friends what a nice nest she could make.

At last Weaver the Oriole ran out of material completely. Search as he might, he could not find another thread or string. He had looked every­where, and the nest was barely half finished. Even Mrs. Weaver had about given up. They flew to the seclusion of the Big Elm to talk it over. They were still wondering what to do when Bud came out of the Grand Old House to see how they were get­ting along.

"If I just had enough hair or thread to finish the Soft Little Nest, I would not care what color it was," said Mrs. Weaver, "I guess we shall have to use grass."

"I'll look again," said Weaver, and away he flew toward the Rambling Old Barn.

Soon Weaver returned with some black hairs that Old Sorrel had rubbed from her tail against a post. Then he flew to the gatepost to decide what to do next. He could scarcely believe his own eyes, for right there at his feet was a bright red string, and not far away was a green one. In fact, hanging along the fence, swinging from posts and clinging to trees, were all kinds of strings and hairs and thread. How did they ever get there?

Weaver did not stop long to wonder where they came from. He thought how pleased Mrs. Weaver would be. And so he took the red string in his bill, and flew hurriedly to the nest to show it to her.

After that it did not take the Weavers long to finish their Soft Little Nest, and soon it held six whitish eggs that were decorated almost as gayly as the nest was.

Of course, the Weavers did not know that Bud and Mary had placed the col­ored strings handy for them, but Bud and Mary were careful not to disturb them. They knew that if anyone interfered with the Weavers, and especially if they handled Weaver's babies, he would be quite sure to leave them. If Weaver's babies are put in a cage and kept for pets, and if the cage is where Weaver can get to it, he will some­times poison them rather than leave them prisoners. Bud and Mary knew this, and that is why they were careful not to be seen while they watched Weaver the Oriole at work.

And so Weaver the Oriole built his Soft Little Nest in the Big Elm in the front yard by the Grand Old House, where he was a near neighbor of Robin Red, who lived in the Red Cedar, and of the' Blue­birds and Jenny Wren. The Weavers and Robin Red and the Bluebirds got along nicely together, for all of them are peace-loving birds. If it had not been for the occasional visits of Noisy the English Sparrow, there would never have been the least trouble around the Grand Old House. Of course, Jenny Wren chattered a great deal with her sharp tongue, but she did not go near the Weavers or the Bluebirds or Robin Red. But if Noisy had always stayed away, the other birds would have liked it better.

CHAPTER 24

Mr. Bluebird Meets a Foreigner

"I BELIEVE I'll fly down into the Green Meadow and see if I can find some grasshop­pers," said Mr. Bluebird to Mrs. Bluebird one day. The second family of Baby Bluebirds were getting rather large, and bugs were not very plentiful around the Grand Old House.

The first family of Bluebirds were still staying not far away, and with Jenny Wren and Weaver the Oriole and Robin Red all feeding families it kept Mr. Bluebird jumping to find anything for his own babies. And so he flew away to the Green Meadow in search of grasshoppers. One big, fat grasshopper made a large meal for one Baby Blue­bird, and saved Mr. Bluebird many trips.

Mr. Bluebird sat for a while on a fence post look­ing around before he caught a grasshopper. He wanted to make sure that no danger was near. While he was resting, a bird walked out of a clump of grass and stood not far away. Mr. Bluebird had never met a neighbor like this before. The bird looked something like Bobby White except that it was larger. It also looked like Drummer the Grouse, but it was smaller than Drummer. Mr. Bluebird thought that the new neighbor must be a near relative of Bobby White and Drummer the Grouse, and he decided to get acquainted.

"Good morning," said Mr. Bluebird. "I do not believe I have seen you before." Mr. Bluebird thought the new neighbor might be one of Drum­mer's children.

"Good morning," replied the stranger. "I should say you have not seen me. I am Hungarian the Partridge, and my home is far, far away. I arrived at the Old Homestead only a few days ago, and have been keeping out of sight. You see, every­ thing is strange to me, and I do not know who are my friends and who my enemies."

Mr. Bluebird hopped down nearer to Hunga­rian the Partridge. He thought that Hungarian the Partridge had flown to the Old Homestead himself as he had done. Yet Mr. Bluebird could not re­member ever having seen Hungarian in any of his travels through the Sunny Southland.

"And where is your home?" Mr. Bluebird asked.

"Far, far away," said Hungarian the Partridge, rather confused. "I was caught in a net, and kept in a cage awhile. Then I was put on a terrible thing that Fearful the Man calls a train; and after I had traveled a long time, I was carried from the train and placed on a boat. After that I rode days and days on the water; and was finally taken off and put on another train. Of course, I was very much frightened even though there were many of my friends with me, and we were glad when we were at last taken from the train and brought to the Old Homestead. My friends are hiding over in that Jungle Thicket at the  foot of High Cliff where Molly lives, and she has told us much about our new home."

Sometimes when Fearful the Man wants new Feathered Friends, he sends to a far-off country for them, and then turns them loose in this country. That is what had happened to Hungarian the Par­tridge. Hungarian the Partridge and his friends had been brought all the way from Hungary. They had been brought to the Old Homestead, where Farmer Smith could protect them from Terror the Hunter.

"Of course, everything is new and different here, said Hungarian the Partridge, "but I am sure we shall like it. Yes, I know we shall like the Old Homestead."

Hungarian the Partridge is like Bobby White and Drummer the Grouse in one way. If he likes a place, he does not leave it more than a few miles at most.

"I am glad you like the Old Homestead," said Mr. Bluebird, "for now I shall see you every year. You see, I live in a Nesting Box that Bud Smith built for me by the Grand Old House; and al­though I leave the Old Homestead when Old Man Winter comes down from the Land of Ice, I come back again with Jolly Spring. And so I shall look for you every year."

"I'll be glad to see you," said Hungarian the Partridge, "for I am a bit lonesome at times."

"Perhaps after you are better acquainted, you will come up by the Grand Old House," said Mr. Bluebird.; "I know you would like Robin Red and Bobby White and Weaver the Oriole and others of my neighbors. You might like to build a nest in the Hedgerow near Bobby White, for it real-ly, real-ly is nice in the Hedgerow by the Apple Or­chard. And Bobby White told me that when the Merry Little Snowflakes cover the ground, Bud Smith scatters grain for him to eat."

"I should like to meet Bobby White," said Hungarian the Partridge. "Perhaps I can get Mrs. Partridge to fly up that way with me some day."

"Well, I must be going," said Mr. Bluebird, as he captured a big grasshopper. "Mrs. Bluebird will be wondering what has become of me, and those babies sure-ly, sure-ly will be hungry."

And so Mr. Bluebird hurried back to the Nest­ing Box to drop the grasshopper into one of the waiting mouths, and to tell Mrs. Bluebird about their new neighbor.

Chapter 25
Chatterer the Red Squirrel Tries to Steal

IT IS a hard thing to say, but Chatterer the Red Squirrel was a thief He lived in a Hollow Den Tree in the Wide Wide Pasture near the Green Meadow. He had lived there a long time. During the winter, Chatterer ate nuts and acorns and cones and dried mushrooms that he had stored here and there in places where he could find them when the Merry Little Snowflakes were deep.

Chatterer had plenty of his own food to eat, so there really was no need for him to steal. Even if he had needed something to eat, that would have been no reason why he should take something that did not belong to him; for there is never any excuse to steal. He should have worked and earned what he needed as his cousin Worker the Gray Squirrel did.

Sometimes we see people who are like Chatterer the Red Squirrel. They would rather steal than earn an honest living. God has said in the eighth commandment, "Thou shalt not steal." Those who steal not only get into trouble as did Chatterer the Red Squirrel, but they will lose eternal life.

Now, the worst thing about Chatterer was that he was not only a thief but also a murderer. In the summer time when the Feathered Friends had nests, Chatterer ran through the trees looking for them to rob. He stole the eggs and murdered the baby birds. Anyone who steals is likely to do worse. And so it was with Chatterer.

One day in early fall Chatterer started out to see what he could find to put in his Secret Storehouse for winter. Sometimes he visited Farmer Smith's cornfield, and carried away some corn. And if he chose to do so, he even went into Farmer Smith's corncrib in winter and helped himself Of course, Farmer Smith did not care if Chatterer took some corn, and that is the more reason why Chatterer should not have stolen from, his Furry Friends.

First Chatterer went to the Tall Spruce to see if the cones were ready to har­vest. He found a few that suited him, and these were carried to the foot of a tree near his Hollow Den Tree and stored under a log. After he had carried cones awhile, he visited the Broad Oak to see if the acorns were getting ripe. Chatterer really preferred cones to eat, but he liked acorns for a change.

Then Chatterer ran from place to place in the Wide-Wide Pasture, just playing. He told himself it would be quite a while until, Old Man Winter came, and so he would wait until later to gather more food. He thought he would have plenty of time. But while Chatterer played, Worker the Gray Squirrel was busy every day gathering and storing food for winter.

Worker the Gray Squirrel lived in a Big Stick Nest in the top of a tree, not a great way from Chatterer's home in the Hollow Den Tree. Chat­terer and Worker did not get along well together. You see, several times Worker, had been unable to find some of the food that he had saved for winter. When he came for it, it was gone.'' He had thought that Chatterer had stolen it, but he had never caught him at it. Also, Chatterer had tried to drive Worker away from that part of the Wide-Wide Pasture where the best food was found. And so they had not lived peaceably together.

When Chatterer finally decided it was time to finish storing his food for the winter, he found that acorns and cones and other things were not so plen­tiful as he had thought. Worker the Gray Squirrel had been preparing for a long, cold winter, and had gathered most of the things that grew near by. Of course, Chatterer did not like the idea of having to go so far away to find supplies. He was rather lazy, anyway.

Chatterer thought the best way to get his supply in a hurry would be to find one of Worker's Secret Storehouses. He looked here and there, and at last he found some cones that Worker had hidden under a big rock. There were not very many, and Chatterer soon had them moved away to a Secret Storehouse of his own.

Chatterer thought that some place Worker the Gray Squirrel had a Secret Storehouse that held many good things. He thought if he could only find that, it would be all he needed. Up and down the Wide Wide Pasture went Chatterer looking under every log and rock.

But Worker the Gray Squirrel had grown wise with age. Instead of keeping most of his supplies in one big Secret Storehouse, he had made many Secret Storehouses in different places. Sometimes he had made a hole in the ground just large enough to hold one or two acorns. Sometimes, if the place suited and he thought Chatterer would not find it, he had left more.

It is a mystery how Worker the Gray Squirrel could remember where he had made all his Secret Storehouses. That is one of Worker's secrets. All the Little Wild Creatures have secrets, and that is what makes them so interesting. Worker did not have a lock with which to protect his stores as we do, and so he had to do it another way. Perhaps he trained his memory by using only a few places at first. Or he may have had some way of marking his Secret Storehouses. I have never seen him car­rying around a notebook, have you?

So Chatterer the Red Squirrel had to gather his own food when he could not find the Secret Store­ houses of Worker the Gray Squirrel.

CHAPTER 26

Mrs. Cowbird Plays a Trick

MRS. COWBIRD had been having a good time all spring. While the other birds were busy building their nests, she had been playing. She did not care anything about having a home. Instead, she stayed in the Wide-Wide Pasture with Old Bent Horn and the other cows. That is why she is called a cowbird. She walked around on the ground near Old Bent Horn, picking up the insects that Old Bent Horn knocked from the grass and weeds. She even sat on Old Bent Horn's back and rode around the Wide-Wide Pasture. But she never once thought about building a nest. Or if she did, she was too lazy to build one.

Mrs. Cowbird is a near relative of Spink the Bobolink, Weaver the Oriole, Burlingame the Lark, and Redwing the Blackbird, and the other blackbirds, but she is a disgrace to the whole blackbird family. She is like Noisy the English Sparrow, who disgraces the sparrow family. But she is even worse than Noisy. It is too bad that Mrs. Cowbird does not belong to the same family as Jim Crow and Tattler the Jay and Pesty the Magpie, for they are all a bad lot. But she doesn't, and so it cannot be helped.

No one would ever think that Burlingame the Lark and Spink the Bobolink and others were rela­tives of Mrs. Cowbird, because they are such good citizens. They are honest and cheerful and good to their neighbors, and every one likes them. So if we do right, other people will like us even though some of our relatives may not always live as they should.

One day Mrs. Cowbird decided it was time for her to begin, to lay her eggs. And there she was without a nest of any kind. Now, Mrs. Whippoorwill would have laid her eggs in         an old stump or among loose leaves on the ground without a nest. But that is not what Mrs. Cowbird did. Oh no ! She hunted around until she found the nest of Yellowbreast the Chat. Then, when Mrs. Chat was not looking, Mrs. Cowbird rolled one of Mrs. Chat's eggs out of her nest and laid one in its place. The next day she did the same thing with Mrs. Field Sparrow. And the next day she laid an egg in the nest of Mrs. Yellow Warbler. After Mrs. Cowbird had laid all her eggs, she went back to the Wide-Wide Pasture to play around Old Bent Horn as if nothing had happened.

Of course, Mrs. Cowbird thought the other birds would not know the difference. She thought they would sit on her eggs and keep them warm and save her the trouble. Then she could go on with her playing. She did not want the responsibility of caring for them herself. Sometimes we see people who try to avoid responsibilities. We call them "shirkers" because they let other people do their work. They are never well liked. Some people even shirk their Christian' duties. In the Bible we read about Joseph and Daniel and others who always were faithful and lived in a way that pleased God, and God blessed and prospered them.

Have you ever gone camping? If you have, no doubt you have seen some people who try to get out of helping with the work. They would rather play if some one else will wash the dishes and carry the water and cut the wood. That is like Mrs. Cow­bird. She is the worst shirker in the bird world.

If Mrs. Chat and Mrs. Field Sparrow noticed the difference in the eggs, they said nothing about it. They kept them warm, and when the baby birds broke open the shells and came out, they fed the Baby Cowbirds as well as their own. In fact, they fed them better.

You see, Mrs. Cowbird's egg usually hatches two or three days before Mrs. Chat's and Mrs. Field Sparrow's. So by the time the other eggs hatch the Baby Cowbird is quite strong, and it crowds to the top of the nest where it will be fed. As it is much larger than the Baby Chats and Baby Field Spar­rows, it gets most of the food.

Mrs. Cowbird thought she had played a clever trick on the other birds when she left her eggs in their nests.

But Mrs. Yellow Warbler was not so easily fooled.

"Now, where do you suppose that egg came from?" asked Mrs. Yellow Warbler.

Mr. Warbler hopped over to the nest and looked in. There was an egg almost an inch long lying in the nest with two of Mrs. Warbler's little eggs.

"That must belong to Mrs. Cowbird," said Mr. Warbler, "for I saw her fly away from our Nesting Tree not long ago."

"Well, I refuse to keep her egg warm for her, said Mrs. Yellow, Warbler.

And so Mrs. Warbler set to work carrying mate­rial, and soon she had built another nest on top of the first one. Then she went right on laying eggs.

If all birds were like Mrs. Yellow Warbler, Mrs. Cowbird would have to build a nest of her own. No doubt, she would have quite a time deciding how to build it and where. I wonder if she would try to build it on Old Bent Horn's back.

Chapter 27

The Bluebirds Move to the Mountains

THE Bluebirds were not at all like Mrs. Cow­bird. I should say not ! They not only raised one family of babies, but after the first family had left the nest they raised another. Mr. Bluebird had watched over the first family until they were en­tirely grown, while Mrs. Bluebird was sitting on the new eggs. After the new eggs hatched, it kept both Mr. and Mrs. Bluebird busy feeding the sec­ond family of babies until they were large enough to leave the nest.

Before long the second family was ready to leave the Nesting Box and join the  first family. Of course, they were. not so strong as the first family of Young Bluebirds, but they were quite able to go with them from place to place on the Old Homestead. Everything was new to them, and interesting.

Mr. and Mrs. Bluebird had worked hard raising their two families, and they needed a rest.

"Let us move to the Big Mountains where it is cooler," suggested Mr. Bluebird one hot fall day.

Said Mrs. Bluebird, "That's a good idea--a very good idea."

And so they left the Old Homestead and went to the higher and cooler atmosphere. It was almost a day's flight from the Old Homestead to the Big Mountains, and there were many things to be seen. Mr. Bluebird knew that before long they would be leaving for the Sunny Southland, and he thought the flight to the Big Mountains would strengthen the Young Bluebirds' wings.

Of course, the Bluebirds did not fly straight to the' Big Mountains without a rest. Oh no ! They stopped quite often, for the Young Bluebirds got hungry. Whenever Mr. Bluebird saw a place that looked as if bugs would be plentiful, he stopped long enough for the Young Bluebirds to catch some. Once he saw a patch of wild berries, and that was a feast for them.

It was quite a task for Mr, and Mrs. Bluebird to keep their family together along the way. First Betty Bluebird would see something new that she wanted to investigate. Then one of her brothers would stop to rest and look around. Soon another would see a grasshopper or bug and stop to catch and eat it. And so it went through the long day.
Then, there were enemies to be watched. It kept Mr. and Mrs. Bluebird busy looking for hawks and warning the Young Bluebirds. You see, whenever the Young Bluebirds became hungry, they were so interested in catching bugs that they really were very careless about watching for enemies.

During the day, the Bluebirds met another family of Bluebirds that were also going to the Big Mountains for a vacation. They had been living on a farm not far from the Old Homestead.

"Let us travel together," said Mr. Bluebird.

Mr. Bluebird thought it would be safer and not so lonesome if they joined their neighbors. The other Bluebirds thought so too, and soon they were all flying. along together like one big family.

It would be well if every one could live together in peace on this earth as the Bluebirds do. But some people are like Flash the Humming Bird. Flash is very selfish, and prefers to live alone. He does not even live peaceably with other humming birds. If one comes near his flower, he darts at the intruder with his long, sharp bill and drives it away. And he will not let other birds come near his garden.

The Bluebirds were glad to travel with the other Bluebirds, because they liked company. They were not selfish. They did not care if the others caught some of the grasshoppers and bugs along the way.

And so when the two families arrived in the Big Mountains, they were, having a fine time together. They were having such a nice time that Mr. and Mrs. Bluebird did not notice that Betty Bluebird was not with them until they were ready to go to sleep, that night.

"Where is Betty?" asked Mrs. Bluebird.

Mr. Bluebird flew, back and forth among the trees, but Betty was nowhere in sight. He visited their neighbors, but she was not with them. Mr. Bluebird was worried when he flew back to Mrs. Bluebird.

"I cannot find Betty," he said. "She’s not here."

"Oh, dear," said Mrs. Bluebird. "I hope she is safe. I wonder what could have happened to her."

The Long Shadows were creeping through the trees and across the deep gorges in the Big Moun­tains. Soon everything was hidden in darkness.

The Bluebirds had found a Great Pine Tree, and there they had gone to sleep among its dense branches, wondering what had happened to Betty.

CHAPTER 28

The Adventures of Betty Bluebird

BETTY BLUEBIRD had been enjoying her trip to the mountains very much. At first everything had seemed new and strange to her. She was not quite sure that she was as safe as she had been on .he Old Hometead. But after she had traveled awhile, she began to lose her fears. She felt quite able to take care of herself

It was not long until Betty was flying bravely here and there, just keeping in sight of the rest of the Bluebirds. Sometimes' she would fly ahead while they were resting, and then she would stop and catch bugs until they came. Sometimes she would stop with the others, and if she was not quite ready to go on when they did, she would wait and. catch another grasshopper or bug.

Once Betty stopped with the others. She had been flying a long time, and she was getting tired and hungry. When the rest left, Betty was busy trying to catch a large grasshopper. It was a flying grasshopper; and every time Betty was ready to grab it, it would fly again.

At last Betty saw another grasshopper sitting on the ground. She thought she might grab it before it saw her. And so she let the first one go, while she dashed after the next. Before Mr. Grasshopper knew Betty was near, she had grabbed him by the back. That was the end of Mr. Grasshopper.

When Betty was ready to fly again, she saw that the was alone. There was not a Bluebird in sight. Every one had gone on, and there was Betty in a strange land, hardly knowing which way to go.

Betty remembered she had last seen the other Bluebirds flying across a field almost at the edge of the Big Mountains. But even though she flew as swiftly as she could, she did not overtake them. Up, up she flew into the Big Mountains, not know­ing which way to go Then Betty knew that she was lost.

It was a lonesome Betty that sat on the limb of an aspen tree wondering what to do, when she noticed a tiny stranger sitting not far away. He wore a black cap and a white vest, and looked quite pert

in his bluish-gray overcoat and large black necktie.

"Who are you?" asked Betty rather rudely, for she had never seen anyone like the stranger on the Old Homestead.

"Chickadee-dee-dee, chickadee-dee-dee," he re plied in his sauciest air.

Dandy the Chicadee lived in the mountains most of the time, and that was why Betty had never seen him. He spent the greater part of his time looking for tree borers and bark lice among the trees, and he was just as likely to hang from the bottom side of a twig as he was to sit on it. Dandy the Chicka­dee was a relative of Whitebreast the Nuthatch, and Whitebreast can stand on the side of a tree as well with his head down as with it up. It really makes no difference to him which end up he is when he is looking for tree borers. Dandy the Chickadee is not quite as active as Whitebreast the Nuthatch, but he is not far behind.

"I wonder if you could tell me where to find the other Bluebirds," said Betty. "I am lost, and do not know where they went."

But all Dandy would say was, "Chickadee, dee­dee, chickadee-dee-dee." He must be proud of his name to say it over so many times.

At last Betty flew farther into the Big Mountains and left Dandy the Chickadee sitting there shout­ing his name after her. It was growing dark, and Betty feared that she would not find the others.

Far ahead in the Big Mountains Betty saw a Hidden Pasture. It was something like the Wide Wide Pasture on the Old Homestead except that it was smaller and surrounded by trees. In it Betty 'could see something that looked like Old Bent Horn, but it was taller. And its horns were many times larger than hers. It was the first time that Betty had seen Cervus the Elk.

Cervus the Elk had come to the Hidden Pasture for his supper. During the day he stayed hidden in the Dense Trees so Terror the Hunter could not find him. The trees also helped Cervus to brush off Biting Fly. You see, Cervus did not have a long tail like Old Bent Horn's with which to switch off Biting Fly. His tail was just an abbreviation. It looked as if part of it was gone. So Cervus the Elk was glad to hide in the Dense Trees where he could brush Biting Fly off his back.

Betty was not sure whether Cervus was a friend or not. But she thought she would be safe if she sat on a high limb and asked Cervus about the other Bluebirds. Of course, Cervus had not seen the other Blue­birds. He had been hidden all day. And he would not have noticed one bluebird more than another if he had seen them, for there were many other bluebirds in the Big Mountains.

Betty Bluebird did not like to be alone, but there was nothing else to do. The Long Shadows were growing longer every minute. Betty almost wished she was back at the Nesting Box on the Old Homestead.

 Just as the Laughing Yellow Sun bowed good night over a Big Mountain, Betty went to bed. She found a Dense Tree with broad, sheltering boughs, and there she went to sleep just as the other Blue­birds were going to bed in their Great Pine Tree. But Betty had no idea where they were.

CHAPTER 29

Drummer the Grouse Gives Advice

BETTY BLUEBIRD was awakened the next morning by a loud noise. It came from a log not far from where Betty was sleeping.

“Brrrrrrruuuuuuunnnnnmm !"

It sounded like some one beating quickly on the bottom of a tub. Betty BlueBird jumped with fright.

"Brrrrrrruuuuuuunnnnnmm ! " it went again a little later.

Of course, it was only Drummer the Grouse awakening the Woods Dwellers, but Betty Blue­bird had never heard Mr. Grouse drum before. She almost wished he would do it again, it was such an odd performance.

Betty hopped down from her perch and flew nearer to Drummer the Grouse. He was busy straightening his feathers after beating the air with his wings. He had to make his wings move very fast to make such a noise. People who have watched Drummer say that he beats the log with his wings to make the noise. Others say he slaps his sides. And some think he pounds his wings together over his back. It is quite likely that he makes his noise by beating upward against the air. But no one knows just how he does it, for Drummer has not told his secret.

"I wonder if you have seen my family," said Betty to Drummer the Grouse.

Drummer lived in the Wildwoods, and he knew all about the Wildwood Lanes. He slept in the Dense Trees at night, but during the day he often sat on his Favorite Drumming Log when he was not looking for wild berries and tender ferns to eat. Drummer did not care much about sitting on his Favorite Drumming Log during the hot summer days, but now that autumn was on the way he rather liked it. Of course, spring was the time he liked best for drumming, for then he lived pretty much alone while Mrs. Grouse was sitting on her nest. Perhaps then he had nothing better to do than to drum.

"Have you seen my family?" again asked Betty Bluebird, after she had hopped near to Drummer.

Drummer was thoughtful for a moment. He was a wise bird. He did not believe in talking un­less he had something worth while to say.

"No, I have not seen your family, but I believe I can help you to find them," he replied. "If you will fly to the top of yonder Rocky Ridge and look over, you will see a Pleasant Little Valley in which grow many, many berries. That is where most bluebirds come for a vacation, and that is where Mr. and Mrs. Bluebird lived for a while last autumn."

Then Drummer the Grouse placed his feet firmly on his Favorite Drumming Log, waved his wings a few times to make sure that he had plenty of room, and sent a loud "Brrrrrrruuuuuuunnnnn­mm !” echoing through the Big Mountains.

Betty Bluebird flew to the top of the Rocky Ridge and looked over. Sure enough, there was a Pleasant Little Valley just as Drummer the Grouse had said there would be. It was filled with many Jungle Thickets like the Big Jungle Thicket in the Black Forest. Betty thought it would be a nice place to live for a while. There would be plenty of raspberries and other kinds of berries to eat even though they would be getting rather dry that late in the summer. And there would be plenty of bugs and worms to eat also. If enemies came near, Betty thought it would be easy to hide in the Jungle Thickets.

Betty felt hungry when she thought about all the good things to eat that she was sure she could find in the Pleasant Little Valley. She had not yet eaten her breakfast. And so away flew Betty to see what she could find to eat, and also to find out if the other Bluebirds had arrived.

It was a good thing that Betty flew just when she did. She had been so interested in looking at the Pleasant Little Valley that she had not seen Killer the Marten climb the very tree on which she was sitting. He had, been well hidden by the Dancing Little Leaflets, and was ready to spring on Betty.

Killer the Marten is a cousin of Trailer the Mink. He is also a cousin of Snoop the Weasel, Fisher the Bold, and Lutra the Otter. And he is a near relative of Digger the Badger and Mephitis the Skunk.

Killer the Marten belongs to a family of hunters, and he likes the Big Mountains where he can run through the tree tops in search of chipmunks and squirrels and birds. Yes, sir; it was a good thing that Betty Bluebird flew just when she did.

When Betty Bluebird arrived in the Pleasant Little Valley, whom do you think she saw? Why, the other Bluebirds, of course. There were Mr. and Mrs. Bluebird and all Betty's brothers and sisters sitting in a Jungle Thicket eating berries for breakfast. It did not take Betty long to find some berries herself. But you may be sure after that Betty did not wander far from the other Bluebirds, for she had learned a lesson.

CHAPTER 30

"Farewell, Farewell"

THE Bluebirds lived in the Big Mountains a number of weeks, and then the days began to grow colder. Every night Jack Frost stole out with his magic paintbrush and painted the oaks and maples and ivy with gold and red and yellow, The Dancing Little Leaflets began to shower down, and soon they covered the ground everywhere. Then one ' day the Merry Little Snowflakes began to tumble all around. It was a sign that Old Man Winter was not far away.

"I believe it is time for us to leave for the Sunny Southland," said Mr. Bluebird.

"Yes," agreed Mrs. Bluebird, "I think it is. But I must see the dear old Nesting Box before we go.. I must visitt the Old Homestead again." And so one warm day in mid-November the Bluebirds started for the Old Homestead with their family for a last look around before going southward. They expected to stay only two nights, because they were in a hurry to leave before Old Man Winter dropped a white robe over the Great Wide World and tucked the Dancing Little Leaflets in bed.

Almost all the Bluebirds' Feathered Friends that spent their winters in the Sunny Southland had already gone. And it was time for many of the Little Wild Creatures to be ready for their long winter sleep.

Dandy the Chickadee and Judge Flicker and Whitebreast the Nuthatch did not seem to mind the cold. They could find plenty to eat even when everything was covered with Merry Little Snow­flakes, for they could still find tree borers. But the Bluebirds had noticed that bugs and grasshoppers were getting harder to find every day.

The Bluebirds arrived at the Nesting Box at evening just as the Laughing Yellow Sun was sink­ing out of sight in the west and Great Horn the Owl was awakening after sleeping all day.

"The Bluebirds are back," shouted Mary Smith to Bud, as he came out of the woodshed with an armful of wood.

"Sure enough," said Bud, "they must be ready to start for the Sunny Southland."

It was a happy family of Bluebirds that visited at the Old Homestead the next day. They flew across the Green Meadow, but it was no longer Green. The trees that stood in the Wide-Wide Pasture were leafless. Chatterer the Red Squirrel sat on a bare limb scolding because Tattler the Jay was hopping around among the branches of his Hollow Den Tree. Snoop the Weasel had changed his brown summer coat for a new white one. And the Little Jungle Thicket where Molly and Peter lived was so bare of leaves that it did not give them much protection.

"I see Snowy the Bunting," said Mr. Bluebird, as they flew back across the Green Meadow. "And there is Junco the Snowbird. Surely Old Man Winter is on the way when they come down from the Chilly Northland."

You see, Snowy the Bunting spent his summer in the Land of Ice, and came to the Old Home­stead only in winter. That was why Mr. Bluebird knew that Old Man Winter could not be far away when he saw Snowy.

High overhead Honker the Goose was flying swiftly southward, with now and then a flock of ducks to keep him company. Out in the barnyard Noisy the English Sparrow and his friends gath­ered on the sunny side of the Rambling Old Barn to keep warm, where they scolded among themselves and made life miserable for Bud Smith's pigeons. And in the Hedgerow along the Apple Orchard, the Bluebirds heard the familiar call of Bobby White.

The following morning just as the Bluebirds were ready to leave, whom should they see but Mr. and Mrs. Robin Red.

"Ha ha-ha-ha," laughed Robin Red. "I thought I would find you here. Something tells me that Old Man Winter is on his way, and it is time for us to be looking for a warmer climate."

"You are right, Robin Red," said Mr. Bluebird. "We are ready to start now. Wouldn't you like to go with us?"

"Yes, yes," said Robin Red.

Mrs. Bluebird flew to the Nesting Box for a last look. She inspected it inside first, and then perched on the top.

"The dear Nesting Box," said she, "I wish I did not have to leave it. But I think it will be all right until we return next spring."

"Let's go, let's go," shouted one of the Young Bluebirds. You see, it was the first time the Young Bluebirds had gone south, and they were getting impatient. They wanted to see the new country where they were to spend the winter.

And so one morning, just as Bud and Mary Smith were starting to school, the Bluebirds and the Robins spread their wings and started south­ward. The children watched the birds as they disappeared over the Green Meadow, and they heard Father Bluebird as he sang, "Farewell, farewell."