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[Illustration: The Blue Birds and Bobolinks were deep in the work of
constructing a magazine. (Page 259) ("The Blue Birds' Winter Nest.")]
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THE BLUE BIRDS' WINTER NEST
By
LILLIAN ELIZABETH ROY
Author Of
"The Blue Birds of Happy Times Nest," "The Blue Birds' Uncle Ben,"
"The Blue Birds at Happy Hills," "The Five Little Starrs Series,"
"The Girl Scouts' Country Life Series," etc.
A. L. BURT COMPANY
Publishers--New York
Printed in U. S. A.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Copyright, 1916, by
THE PLATT & PECK COMPANY
Printed in U. S. A.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. How Aunt Selina Flew 7
II. A Sunday Walk and Its Results 26
III. The Blue Birds' Inspiration 45
IV. The Bobolink Boys Founded 62
V. Uncle Ben's Business Talk 81
VI. Beginning the Winter Work 96
VII. Blue Bird Wisdom and Bobolink Work 114
VIII. Aunt Selina's Civil War Story 135
IX. How the Yankees Took Possession 160
X. Beginning To Spell Success 179
XI. The Winter Nest Council 199
XII. The Story of an Alaskan Trip 219
XIII. A Winter in the Frozen North 238
XIV. The B. B. & B. B. Magazine 259
XV. How the Magazine Went Out 285
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THE BLUE BIRDS' WINTER NEST
CHAPTER I
HOW AUNT SELINA FLEW
"Sally! I say, Sally! Come here!" cried a peevish voice, belonging to a
querulous old lady who was huddled up on a couch in the bright morning
room of her fine old mansion.
"I'se here, Miss S'lina--comin' straight an' fas' as mah laigs kin
brings me!" replied a cheerful colored woman, bustling around, and
moving some toast so it would not scorch.
"Are you quite sure you told Abe to meet the eleven-thirty train at
Greenfields station? Just fancy how dreadful it would be to have Miss
Ruth get off the train and not find anyone there to meet her!"
complained Miss Selina, her face twitching with pain as she raised her
hands to emphasize her remark.
"Laws'ee, Miss S'lina! Don' you be 'fraid dat I han't tended to
eberyt'ing for little Miss Rufie's welcome! Leave it to ole Sally, what
likes dat chile like her own kin!"
"Well, then, Sally, hurry with my toast and tea--and for goodness' sake,
don't you bring scorched toast again! There, I can smell it burning this
very minute! How many times must I tell you that I will not trust those
electric toasters? The old-fashioned coal fire is good enough for
me--and it would be for you, too, if it were not for your ridiculous
ideas of being progressive and having all these electric fol-de-rols put
up in the house. My house, too! Think of it! A servant to order these
contraptions and use them in my very own home and make me pay for them,
when I prefer the ways of my forefathers." Then utterly wearied with her
long complaint, Miss Selina collapsed, and closed her eyes.
Sally, the old family servant who had lived all her days with the
Talmage family at Happy Hills, had been a playmate of Miss Selina's; in
fact, she had grown up with all the children of the "big house." She
smiled indulgently at her mistress' words, as she bent over a fresh
piece of toast.
"Pore chile--Sally knows a heap of time is saved 'twixt 'lectricity an'
coal, an' she's goin' to cleave to the bestes' way ever foun' yit--an'
she knows what dem old rheumaticks is a-doin' to your temper,"
soliloquized the astute servant.
The toast was nicely browned, and the tea brewed perfectly, and Sally
placed them on a dainty tray which she carried over to the couch.
"Want I should leave you alone, or he'p you break the bread?" asked
Sally, soothingly.
Miss Selina opened her eyes and answered, "If I were sure you had Miss
Ruth's room all ready, and everything else as it should be, I would let
you pour that tea for me; but I suppose you have neglected half your
work to be in here with me."
Sally's broad grin wrinkled the corners of her mouth, as she took the
teapot and poured the fragrant beverage into a Japanese cup. At the same
time her mind seemed to dwell upon a pleasant subject.
"Does you 'member, Miss S'lina, de las' time little Rufie visited us?
Dat's de time she was all full of a plan for havin' some kin' of a
bird's nest at home. I wonder ef she ever did fix it up?"
Miss Selina forgot to find fault for a few moments, as Sally's words
caused her to remember the plan her grand-niece had talked over.
"Seems to me, her mother wrote something in a letter about a Blue Bird
Nest they were going to start. But I haven't the slightest idea what it
is. I should think they would build nests for robins and birds who are
plentiful in our country places. Blue Birds are not very numerous in our
woods."
"T'wan't for real birds--don' you recomember? It was jus' de name dey
was goin' to use fer a li'l 'sociation like!" corrected Sally, as she
held the plate of toast within reach of the invalid's hand.
"No, I don't remember! How should I?--with all this pain forever tying
me into knots!" mumbled Miss Selina, as a toothsome morsel of toast
entered her mouth.
Suddenly, the crunching of wheels on the gravel drive was heard, and
Sally craned her neck to look from the window.
"There goes Abe now," she said.
The same day the Blue Birds of Happy Times Nest, at Oakdale, had become
"Fliers," little Ruth Talmage, the favorite of the Nest, had received an
invitation to spend a week at her Aunt Selina's house, and Abe was now
on his way to the station to meet her.
Aunt Selina was an unpleasant old lady, and few of her relatives cared
to visit her; so, when she had her attacks of rheumatism she generally
had to spend her time on the couch with no one to amuse her. She had
invited Ruth the previous Spring, and had enjoyed the little girl's
visit so much, that she had sent for her now when helpless with another
attack.
Of course, when the telegram came to Ruth's home, asking the little girl
to visit Aunt Selina, the Blue Birds felt sorry for her, knowing what a
miserable time Ruth would have. Then, too, Ruth's father was expected
home that Saturday, and Ruth had not seen him for almost a year.
Ruth, however, was willing to sacrifice her own pleasure to help Aunt
Selina--as every Blue Bird tries to follow the Golden Rule--so she left
her playmates Saturday morning, with promises to write every day until
she returned, and they, in turn, earnestly promised to explain to her
father just why she went away the day he was expected home.
Now, Happy Hills, Aunt Selina's home, was several miles from Greenfields
Station, and the country about this section of Pennsylvania was so
beautiful and healthful that city people gradually settled upon estates
and spent their summers there. Beautiful carriages and automobiles daily
passed over the fine old road that divided Happy Hills in half. But no
one had much of an opportunity to admire the place as high board fences
had been built on either side of the road as far as the property fronted
it.
Happy Hills was an old family estate comprising more than two thousand
acres, half woodland and half cultivated fields and green pastures. A
spring of clear water, hidden among the rocks of the highest hill at the
back of the farm, furnished plenty of water for the noisy brook that
tumbled from rock to rock on the hillside, and, after splashing in and
out among the trees, ran like a broad ribbon through the green meadows.
The entire property was enclosed with a high fence, even the woodland
being carefully hemmed in so no little children could get in to play in
the brook, or pick wild berries and flowers that decayed in profusion
year after year.
Sally was a trusted old housekeeper who had her mistress' confidence;
Abe was her husband who had driven the Talmage coupe ever since he came
North at the time of the Civil War.
Miss Selina had not always been so disagreeable. She had old-fashioned
pictures of herself at the age of eighteen when hoop-skirts were the
fashion, and the young women wore their hair in "water-falls." At that
time a handsome young man was in love with her, but he was shot in the
war, and she brooded over her loss so long that she lost all the
sweetness of living. The older she grew the more disagreeable she
became, until, not one of her relatives wanted to be with her, but
managed to keep far from her complaining voice.
And for this old lady, Ruth had waived the anticipated home coming of
her dear father!
Breakfast over, Sally propped Miss Selina up on the cushions and left
her for a time.
After wondering how long it would take Abe to drive back from the
eleven-thirty train, Miss Selina started to think of something she had
been pondering the last few days. What should she do with her vast
estate if she died? She had never made a will, for she abhorred the idea
of dying and having any strangers in her home. But she couldn't take it
with her, and she was nearing seventy years of age with all the signs of
old age breaking over her defenceless head.
She tried to think of someone to whom she really wanted to leave her
home, but there was no one. She generally sighed at this point and
dropped the unpleasant thought. To-day, however, she wondered if her
nephew and his wife could be plotting to get her property by having Ruth
visit whenever she was invited. This idea seemed to take hold of her,
and she frowned as she made up her mind to ask Ruth questions about her
mother's intentions and opinions regarding Aunt Selina and Happy Hills.
Miss Selina had been so engrossed in her thoughts that the sound of
carriage wheels on the drive failed to reach her. Therefore, it was with
a start of surprise that she heard the door flung open and a happy
child's voice cry:
"Aunt Selina! I'm here! Are you glad to have me?" while a pair of soft
little arms were gently placed about her withered old neck and fresh
little lips pressed her cheek.
The caress was such an unusual experience that Miss Selina forgot to
wince or complain, and before she did remember, Ruth was bubbling over
with news.
"What do you think is to happen to-day?--Oh! Aunt Selina, we all have
new names at home; even mother is now called Mother Wings and I am
Fluff. The other Blue Birds have names they chose for themselves, and
Ned is an Owl, and prints our weekly paper called the _Chirp_. Now,
instead of Aunt Selina, I want to call you a bird-name, too. May I?"
Aunt Selina smiled sympathetically at Ruth's words, but, recalled to her
condition by a twinge of pain, she moaned, "Child, poor old Aunt Selina
would make a wretched specimen of a bird nowadays. The only kind I feel
that I could represent truly is a raven--for it always croaks."
Ruth laughed consolingly, but cried, "Oh, Aunt Selina, that is just
because you feel blue with those old rheumatics. Mother says we always
look at life through dark spectacles when we're in pain, and we b'lieve
the lovely world has lost all its brightness. Now, I've come to make you
forget your blues and I _must_ have a new name to say, because there is
so _much_ to tell you that I would lose time if I had to say 'Aunt
Selina' every time. Besides, a new name will make you forget yourself."
"What could you call me?" questioned her aunt, trying to fall in with
the child's whim.
"We'll have to think! It isn't as easy as it may sound to find a name to
suit. We had a dreadful hard time to do it."
"'Fluff' suits you beautifully. Who found it?" said the old lady
interestedly.
"I chose two, but we can only have one. One was 'Flutey' the other
'Fluff'; Ned and the Blue Birds liked 'Fluff' best, and they have called
me by that name ever since we were christened in the Nest."
"When I was a little girl like you I used to enjoy whistling about the
place so much that father called me his little flute. I can still see
the shocked expression of my aunt who visited us, when she heard me
running about whistling like a boy. She was a grand dame of society in
New York, and _her_ girls were doing embroidery and being taught how to
curtsey and behave in the drawing-room." And Miss Selina smiled at Ruth
who fully understood the remark and clapped her hands delightedly at her
aunt who had been a hoyden so long ago.
"I just love to whistle, too. Ned says I can pipe higher and carry a
tune better than anyone he knows!" declared Ruth, and aunt and
grand-niece felt a common bond of unity.
Ruth was about to demonstrate her accomplishment to Aunt Selina, when
her face puckered into a funny expression and her shoulders hunched up
about her ears as they usually did when some secret thought gave her a
surprise. She leaned over the couch and confidentially whispered, "Aunt
Selina, I'll tell you what! We both love to whistle, don't we? Then, you
shall be christened with my other name! You shall be 'Flutey,' eh?"
"Oh, dear child, it would be sarcasm to name me that now! Why, the only
claim I have to that name would be because of my fluted skin. Just look
at my neck and face!" said Aunt Selina.
"No such thing!" retorted Ruth. "I never saw any flutes on your face
until this very minute when you made me see some little wrinkles. Your
skin is soft and white, so don't you ever tell folks what you said to
me, 'cause they won't see anything but a nice face."
Of course, Aunt Selina felt elated to hear such comforting words, but
Ruth gave her no time to meditate.
"Do you like the name I, as your god-mother, give you?" laughed the
merry little girl.
"Yes, indeed, it is fine, but we must keep it a secret. Just fancy Sally
or Abe, or any of the servants, calling me 'Miss Flutey!'" And Aunt
Selina laughed aloud just as the door opened and Sally popped her head
through the aperture. Seeing the happy faces and hearing the unusual
laughter, she immediately closed the door, without having been seen or
heard. Out in the wide hall she lifted both arms high toward the ceiling
and rolled her eyes devoutly upward as she murmured, "Praise be to the
Lud, dat dat little tree is come wif healin' in its leaves." After this
strange remark, Sally hurried out to tell Abe of the miracle.
Aunt Selina, in spite of her age, felt a childish delight in having a
secret with Ruth, and after a few moments said, "I shall have to call
you Fluff, and you must call me Flutey, I suppose, if we are to belong
to the same Nest."
"Yes, that's the way," replied Ruth, clapping her hands softly. "Now,
let me tell you all the wonderful things we did this summer."
Then began a recital of how the Blue Birds of Happy Times Nest started;
about each member and her name; the nest in the old cherry-tree; how
they had earned money to bring some poor children from the city to spend
the hot weeks in the country; and, best of all, how they had interested
all of the citizens of Oakdale in helping a hundred poor city children
to spend a few weeks in the beautiful village of Oakdale.
At this moment a loud knock at the door caused Aunt Selina to sit up and
call out, "Come in!"
"Shall you hab lunch in de dinin' room, or serbed here?" said Sally.
"Lunch! Why, is it time--is it one o'clock?" gasped Miss Selina.
"Ya'as'm--pas dat hour, too," replied Sally, smiling broadly at Ruth,
who returned the good-natured feeling.
"Well, well; I feel much better, Sally," admitted Aunt Selina. "Nothing
like having young folks around when one feels blue, eh? I guess you'd
better bring the lunch tray here, and Miss Ruth and I will picnic this
noon."
In a few moments the waitress brought in a huge tray while Sally
followed with a folding table which she placed by the side of the couch.
A joysome hour passed in "picnicking" the lunch, then Sally rang for the
maid to remove the dishes. After she had gone, Sally turned to her
mistress and, with the familiarity of an old servant, said, "Miss Rufie
shore is de bestes tonic you ebber took. You'se et more lunch, Miss
Selina, dan I'se seen yo' et in six mont!"
Then whisking a few tiny crumbs from the couch afghan, Sally gathered up
the doilies and went out, smiling contentedly.
That afternoon worked a remarkable change in Aunt Selina. She forgot all
about herself and her misery while listening to her grand-niece's story
of sacrifice for others.
She listened attentively to every word, until Ruth concluded with the
words, "Now, we are planning some great work for our winter nest, but
we don't know just what we will choose."
So impressed was Aunt Selina with the movement started by the New York
Organization, that she determined to help the cause in every way she
could.
In the evening with the help of a cane and Sally, Aunt Selina managed to
reach the dining-room for dinner. "For," said she, "it is a shame to
keep Ruth cooped up in my morning room all day long."
During dinner she marveled at the improvement in her physical condition
and worried lest her ailments return suddenly. But Ruth reassured her.
"No, indeed, Flutey, we have so much to do and plan while I am here,
that you won't have time to think of getting sick again."
Aunt Selina looked dumbfounded for a moment.
"Ruth, do you suppose that's what ails me--nothing to do but think of
myself all of the time?" said she.
"Flutey, not only with you, but with lots of folks!" replied Ruth,
wisely. "You see, anyone who is busy and has something to do all the
time never gets sick, because they haven't time to worry 'bout
themselves if they feel a bit of pain. Why, this summer I saw lots of
beginnings of sickness stopped just because everyone had to get through
their work for the city children. Even me: when mother told me that
father--oh, oh--oh!" and Ruth doubled over her plate and giggled
immoderately.
"Now what ails you, child?" inquired Aunt Selina, smiling in sympathy
with her guest's merry laugh.
"Oh, Aunt Selina, this goes to prove what I just said! Here I have been
with you all day, so full of the story of our Nest and all we did, that
I forgot to feel sorry for myself. Why, think of it! Father is expected
home to-night, and I'm not there! When your telegram came asking me to
come here, and mother told me father was expected the same day, I felt
dreadfully bad about it, but mother said I might help the winter nest a
great deal by coming to show you how to fly, so I really made up my mind
not to feel sorry about not seeing father. And here I am all this time,
forgetting my disappointment about leaving home to-day, and now,
laughing over it. Don't you see?"
Aunt Selina nodded her head comprehendingly as she said, "Yes, I see!
Yes, I see what has been my undoing all these years. Child, you have
done something for me that all my years have failed in showing me. God
bless you, Ruth, for coming, and when I tell your father about it he
will be proud of his little Blue Bird that brought such peace to me."
As she concluded, Aunt Selina's eyes were brimful of tears, but they
were tears of gratitude, and such tears always wash away much of our
stubborn selfishness.
Sally hovered about the table to be on hand to assist her querulous
mistress if necessary and she, too, felt the effect of Ruth's words and
silently praised God for the blessing.
After Aunt Selina and Ruth were comfortably seated in the soft
easy-chairs of the former's bedroom, Ruth asked permission to write the
letters she had promised the Blue Birds at home. Aunt Selina nodded
cheerfully, and sat watching the little girl write until her eyelids
drowsed slowly over her eyes.
The first and most important letter was written to Ruth's dear father
and mother. The next to Ned, and the third to all of the Blue Birds of
Happy Times Nest. Here, she wrote as she pleased and told them about her
trip, how interested Aunt Selina seemed to be, about the secret name she
had given the new Blue Bird and all of the fine things Aunt Selina was
going to do just as soon as plans could be talked over. As the letter
drew to a close, Ruth begged her friends to write every day and not
undertake any important work until she came home.
The last letter took a long time to write and Aunt Selina was fully
awake before Ruth had finished.
"Laws, Child! Do you know the time? What would your mother say if she
knew I kept her daughter out of bed until after nine o'clock? If the
letters are finished you must go straight to your room." And Aunt Selina
rang for Sally.
That night as Ruth slept soundly, Aunt Selina lay thinking over all her
grand-niece had told her. As she thought of all her wasted years and of
all the wonderful good she might have done with her leisure time and
wealth, she turned her face to the wall and shed bitter tears of regret.
Then recalling Ruth's advice to fill her mind with something good and
helpful, the old lady vowed to pick up the frayed ends of her life and
ask Ruth how to use her money and time to create some lasting good for
others. As she smiled contentedly over the idea of her grand-niece of
tender years advising and helping her, an old lady of three score and
ten, the Bible text flashed into her mind--"And a little child shall
lead them."
Then Aunt Selina fell into a restful, health-giving sleep such as she
had not had in years.