You'd laugh to see him, I am sure;
Of strawberries, too, he's very fond;
Will poke around
Till he has found
Each one among the hulls out-thrown.
Then, too, he's fond of nice clean clothes,
Will spring for sheet hung out to dry;
And children dressed
In very best,
Are sure to please his dainty eye.
No matter where his feet have been,
He'll spring and plant them, little pest,
On something white,
And then will fight
To hold, and hide it in his nest.
* * * * * [{189}]
You've "come again to see our Coon"?
Well, he is gone; he plagued us so,
We sent the "Rac"
To Central Park,
Where you can see him when you go.
Oh yes, they're glad to get him, there;
They have no clothes hung out to dry;
And children aye
Must stand away,
For there a keeper's always nigh.
* * * * *
A "Yes" and "No" are common, hard,
But "yes'm," "no-sir," choice;--
Let none but sweet and gentle words
Flow from your gift of voice.
THE BANK-SWALLOWS.
In a village of Bank-Swallows,
You will find so many a nest,
"That you scarce can tell their number
Nor which one of them is best." [{191}]
In the sand-hill, see the openings,
Round or oval odd-shaped, some,
Size and form depending often,
On how loose the sand become.
When with their short bills they pecked it,
Clinging fast with claws the while,
Till they made an open door-way
Suiting them in size and style.
Once within, they peck and peck it,--
Sometimes quite a yard or more,
While the nest is snugly builded,
Farthest from the outer door.
But, so wise are they, this archway
From the entrance to the nest,
Is inclining ever upward,
That no rain within may rest.
So the pink-white eggs are laid there,
Safe from harm, till baby-birds
Chirrup forth to take their places,
'Mongst the self-sustaining herds. [{192}]
Smallest of the swallow species,
Homeliest, too, yet favorites dear,
For their graceful, airy movements,
And their simple, social cheer.
Found are they from North to South-land,
Known of every tribe and race;--
Swift in flight, yet swinging, swaying,
Skimming low from place to place.
Parent-birds care less for young ones,
Than do other swallow-kind;--
Push them off half-fledged and timid,
Each his food and home to find.
Thus they, many a time, fall prey to
Hawks and crows, their enemies;--
Even the nest sometimes is entered
By the snakes and fleas and flies.
Swallows migrate in the Winter,
From the cold to warmer climes,
Flying back as Spring approaches,
To the haunts of former times.