Now, all this time the father-bird had kept so still that they did not know he was on the tree just above their heads; but, as soon as mamma lifted Josie so that she might look into the nest, he flew straight down at them, pecked at Josie's hands, pulled mamma's hair, and beat her face with his wings. Josie was frightened, and began to cry; but mamma held her close in her arms, and ran away from the tree as fast as she could.
When they reached the gate, and stopped to rest, they heard the old birds talking it over. I guess the father-bird said, "There! I've driven those wicked thieves away. They'll never dare to come here again." And the little birds began to cry, "Tweet, tweet!" And the mother-bird sat down in the nest, and said, "There, darlings, just tuck your little heads under my wings and go to sleep. No one shall harm my dear babies."
Josie says, "I think they were real cross not to let a little girl just look at their babies." But I think they were brave birds to take such good care of their little ones. What do you think about it, little "Nursery" folks?
Josie's Mamma.
MEDITATIONS OF A SHUT-OUT ONE.
Well, now, do you call that good manners? My master shut the gate in my face, as much as to say, "Stay where you are, Bob." Then he goes in to dine and play chess with the parson, and leaves me here to watch and wait.
Three hours, I do believe, I have been here on the watch,—three long, long hours. And there he sits yonder with the folks in the summer-house. The roast meat seems to be deliciously done, if I may judge from the odor. Just one little bone for me, if you please, good master mine.
What do I see? He gives a bone to that scamp Fido; but for me, his trusty one, who, year in and year out, have guarded yard and stable so faithfully,—for me he has nothing, not even a mouthful! And here I sit hungering and thirsting till my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth.
