Delight of every heart;
No flow'ret rare is like thee fair,
None praised as thou art.
BERTHA HIRSCH BARUCH.
AUGUST 8.
August is a word of dire import in the bird-lover's calendar. It means virtually the end of the bird season. The wooing and nesting and rearing the family are all over, and now looms before the feathered population that annual trouble—the change of dress, the only time in his life—happy soul!—that he has to concern himself about clothes.
In the business of getting a new suit he has more trouble than a fine lady, for he has to shake off the old garments, while getting the new, bit by bit, here a feather and there a feather, today a new wing-quill; tomorrow a new plume on his dainty breast.
OLIVE THORNE MILLER.