PLEASANT NEIGHBOURS.
The location selected by our friend, the robin, seems to be highly
appreciated by many of the feathered race. Although the robin was the
first settler, others have already decided that it affords great
advantages in the way of shelter from the fierce winds, from the
burning rays of a summer sun, and from the too-curious eyes of hawks
and other birds of prey.
An abundance of fresh, soft water can be obtained not far from
Honeysuckleville, and this is always a recommendation in favour of any
place, either for men or birds. Fruit also abounds. There will be
bright red currants for the little folks; strawberries, too, more than
they can eat, and raspberries in any quantity they may wish. I must
not forget the cherries, of which birds are so fond, and which they
can have at any time when they are ripe, for merely the trouble of
picking.
It is not surprising, with all these advantages in its favour, that
Honeysuckleville should find more than one family happy to settle
within its borders. For some time, two song-sparrows have made it
frequent visits; and have finally decided, after a careful survey,
that no more desirable spot can be found for a summer residence. They
have accordingly commenced building, not more than two feet from the
mansion of the robins. Their house is much smaller--a cottage--but
quite large enough for them. It nestles so lovingly in the shadow of
the vines, that I am sure domestic comfort must be found there.
Discord and contention could not abide in so peaceful a retreat.
The song-sparrows will be pleasant neighbours. They are exceedingly
fond of vocal music, and their clear melodious voices fill the new
settlement with harmony. In that terrible snow-storm which occurred in
the middle of April, I often saw a sparrow alight on a bough of a tree
near the house, and send up to heaven such a strain of full, gushing
melody, as melted my heart with pity and admiration. It reminded me of
a child of God in the midst of trials and afflictions, yet rejoicing
in faith, and trusting continually in the care of a Father in heaven.
Was the cold little sparrow singing itself away, as it was once
believed the swan sung its own death-song? Or may the new neighbour of
the robin be the very one whose voice rang out so clear and loud,
above the howlings of the storm? I trust no rude blast nor chilling
frost will mar the pleasure of our feathered friends, but that they
may prosper in their plans, and never forget seeking a home in the
vine which winds so gracefully around the porch of Mrs. Dudley's
cottage.
The song sparrow is not the only neighbour of the robin. A pair of
cat-birds have a nest in a lilac near the honeysuckle, and one of them
sings hour after hour on the walnut-tree opposite to the window and
often comes near enough to the house to look through the open
casement. These birds have lived for several summers in that same
lilac, and annually make all the repairs necessary to render their
dwelling habitable. They have raised several broods of birdlings, much
to their own enjoyment, and of Mrs. Dudley's bird-loving family.