“I’ve noticed that most of the boys and girls who rob our nests and whose parents drive us from their gardens go every day to that square house down the road yonder,” said Mrs. Wren. “Now if some bird with a fine voice that would make them listen could only fly in the window and sing a song, telling them how useful even the songless bird brothers are, they might treat us better and tell their parents about us when they go home.”
“Well spoken,” said the Robin; “but who would venture into that house with all those boys? There is one boy in there who, last year, killed my mate with a stone in a bean-shooter, and also shot my cousin, a Bluebird. Then the boy’s sister cut off the wings of these dead brothers and wore them in her hat. I think it would be dangerous to go in that schoolhouse.”
“The windows are open,” said the Song Sparrow, who had listened in silence. “I hear the children singing, so they must be happy. I will go down and speak to them, for though I have no grand voice, they all know me and perhaps they will understand my homely wayside song.”
So the Sparrow flew down the road, but as he paused in the lilac hedge before going in the window, he heard that the voices were singing about birds, telling of their music, beauty, and good deeds. While he hesitated in great wonder at the sounds, the children trooped out, the girls carrying pots of geraniums which they began to plant in some beds by the walk. Then two boys brought a fine young maple tree to set in the place of an old tree that had died. A woman with a bright, pleasant face came to the door to watch the children at their planting, saying to the boys, “This is Arbour Day, the day of planting trees, but pray remember that it is Bird Day also. You may dig a deep hole for your tree and water it well; but if you wish it to grow and flourish, beg the birds to help you. The old tree died because insects gnawed it, for you were rough and cruel, driving all the birds away from hereabouts and robbing their nests.”
“Please, ma’am,” said a little girl, “our orchard was full of spinning caterpillars last season and we had no apples. Then father read in a book the government sent him that Cuckoos would eat the caterpillars all up, so he let the Cuckoos stay, and this year the trees are nice and clean and all set full of buds!”
The Song Sparrow did not wait to hear any more, but flew back to his companions with the news.
“I shall put my nest under the lilac hedge to show the children that I trust them,” said he, after the birds had recovered from their surprise.
“I will lodge in the bushes near the old apple tree,” said the Cuckoo; “it needs me sadly.”
“I will build over the schoolhouse door,” said the Phoebe; “there is a peafield near by that will need me to keep the weevils away.”