And meet the eyes of the children,
Who eagerly look out
With cheeks that bloom like roses red,
And greet them with welcoming shout.
On the joyous Christmas morning,
In front of every door
A tall pole, crowned with clustering grain,
Is set the birds before.
And which are the happiest, truly,
It would be hard to tell;
The sparrows who share in the Christmas cheer,
Or the children who love them well!
How sweet that they should remember,
With faith so full and sure,
That the children's bounty awaited them
The whole wide country o'er!
When this pretty story was told me
By one who had helped to rear
The rustling grain for the merry birds
In Norway, many a year,
I thought that our little children
Would like to know it too,
It seems to me so beautiful,
So blessed a thing to do—
To make God's innocent creatures see
In every child a friend,
And on our faithful kindness
So fearlessly depend.
CELIA THAXTER
THE CROW.
The poor crow has had very few friends. Like many mischievous people, he has been more severely blamed than he really deserves. He has been called an egg-stealer, a bird-eater, and a corn-thief. I am afraid that this is all true, and yet it is not fair to forget the good that he does.
In the spring, before there are many insects for him to eat, the hungry crow will sometimes do a great deal of mischief.