II
The summer came, and all the birds were dead. The days were like hot coals. In the orchards hundreds of caterpillars fed. In the fields and gardens hundreds of insects of every kind crawled, finding no foe to check them. At last the whole land was like a desert.
From the trees caterpillars dropped down upon the women's bonnets, and they screamed and ran. At every door, the women gathered and talked.
"What will become of us?" asked one. "The men were wrong,—something must be done."
"The teacher was right," said another.
At last, the farmers grew ashamed of having killed the birds. They met and did away with the wicked law, but it was too late.
Harvest time came, but there was no harvest. In many a home there was want and sorrow.
The next spring a strange sight was seen—a sight never seen before or since. Through the streets there went a wagon filled with great branches of trees. Upon them were hung cages of birds that were making sweet music.
From all the country round these birds had been brought by order of the farmers. The cages were opened, and once more the woods and fields were filled with the beautiful birds, who flew about singing their songs of joy. And again the harvests grew in the fields and filled to overflowing the farmers' barns.
—Adapted from LONGFELLOW.