"GOOD MORNING, FOLKS"
The birds looked at him curiously, and one or two fluttered their wings in a timid and nervous way; but none of them, little or big, thought best to make any reply.
"Well," said Jim Crow, gruffly, "what's the matter with you fellows? Haven't you got tongues? You seemed to talk fast enough a minute ago."
"Excuse me," replied a bullfinch, in a dignified voice; "we haven't the honor of your acquaintance. You are a stranger."
"My name's Jim Crow," he answered, "and I won't be a stranger long, because I'm going to live here."
They all looked grave at this speech, and a little thrush hopped from one branch to another, and remarked:
"We haven't any crows here at all. If you want to find your own folks you must go to some other place."
"What do I care about my own folks?" asked Jim, with a laugh that made the little thrush shudder. "I prefer to live alone."
"Haven't you a mate?" asked a robin, speaking in a very polite tone.