MR. NIGHTINGALE'S NEW FRIEND MR. BLACKBIRD
"Nice old lady will hear our voices."
"I heard a story the other day," said daddy, "a quite true story. Mr. Nightingale had built too large a nest.
"After a while he thought of a visitor he would like to have all the time, and off he started on his travels.
"As he went along, flying as fast as he could, he kept thinking to himself how very lonely he had been of late.
"At last he reached the spot he had chosen for resting. It was in a blackbird's bay. There were many low bushes and shrubs and berry trees in this bay, and in the marshy water were quantities of pond-lilies.
"Soon a very fine bird—black as black could be, and very shiny, just as if he'd polished his wings with shoe-blacking—perched on a bush beside the one where Mr. Nightingale was resting.
"'Did you come to hear us sing or talk or scream?' asked the blackbird.