BY THE RIVER.
A yellow-bird was the companion of Minnie's walk, and a pleasant little
man he was, with his gayly-spotted wings, his graceful manners, and
musical voice.
The oriole was handsomer, and had a sweeter song; but he was proud, and
spoke in a sharp, short way, that was not agreeable. Minnie said to
herself, "I can listen to oriole while he sings at the top of the tall
elm; but for my friend I will choose some one with gentler behavior, if
he hasn't so loud a song." Do you think Minnie was wise?
Yellow-bird was equally pleased with his companion, and very ready to
converse. He told her that he had often wished to become acquainted with
some of his neighbors in the village, but dare not trust them.
"Why?" Minnie asked.
"O, one of my brothers, after eating the plant that makes us wise, heard
a little girl begging him to come and live with her. She promised a
beautiful cage in the summer-house, and plants to eat and drink."
"And he went?"
"Yes; he was so unwise. Before the end of a week the little girl had
forgotten to feed him, and he lay dead in the bottom of his cage."
"Yet that was an accident; the little girl was sorry, I am sure."
"Her sorrow did not bring him to life again; and I could tell sadder
stories--O, too sad stories for to-day!" Here yellow-bird stopped
talking, and breathed forth a low, mournful song.
The squirrel, hearing him, turned quickly: "This will never do! Why,
friend, we're going to a feast, and not a funeral; pray give us some
gladder music."
"Excuse me, I never can sing so soon after eating," said yellow-bird,
who was not willing to leave his new friend.
As for Minnie, she had never stood so near a bird before in her life;
and could not be satisfied with looking into yellow-bird's round eyes,
and stroking the soft feathers on his neck. She had a hundred questions
to ask; and he answered so graciously that she began to think she would
rather live with those gentle creatures, the birds, than with her kind,
but wild and frisky friends, the squirrels.
You may remember it was Minnie's wish at first to live like a bird, on
that morning--how long ago it seemed to her now!--when she had sat on
her father's door-step, and watched a sparrow soar into the sky, and
sing.
They had not time for many words before reaching the water, which in one
place spread to a little pond beneath the trees, and reflected the leafy
branches on every side, and the sky, with its pearl-white clouds, and
the sunshine that lay across it like a path of gold.
An aged birch-tree, uprooted by the wind, had fallen into this pond. Its
large and handsome boughs were still alive; and here flew oriole at
once, singing as he alighted, and swung on the tip of a branch. The
other birds followed through the air, except Minnie's friend, who
walked quietly on with her. The squirrels bounded in a trice across the
broad, white trunk of the tree. The mice and the moles followed them,
and the rabbit was not far behind. The butterflies chose to hover above
the sunny water in a flock.
Then squirrel made a speech, thanking his guests for the honor they had
done him in spending so much time at his poor feast. He was glad it had
been in his power to make some return, by presenting to them so
distinguished a guest.
The rabbit took this compliment to himself; so he replied by assuring
squirrel that the obligation was all on the part of his guests. In
ending, he regretted that he had not chanced to meet earlier with such
pleasant companions; the truth was, he had only an hour ago been able to
rid himself of a gray squirrel, a rough, unmannerly fellow from the
backwoods, whom he would have been ashamed to bring into such polite
society.
"Ha!" said squirrel, forgetting his dignity as host, "the very chap that
honored us with his presence a little while, and boasted about his
mighty friend, the rabbit."
Rabbit folded his ears together very wisely at this, and replied: "A
person who feels it necessary to boast of his friends, is never much in
himself. Now, _I_ always feel that I'm as good as any of my
acquaintance."
"I wonder which is worse vanity," thought Minnie, "to boast of one's
friends or one's self!"
But here yellow-bird hopped upon a spray, and sang a delightful little
song in honor of their fair guest, whom he compared to a flower, a
little cloud, a soft willow-bud of the spring-time, a white strawberry,
and many other things in which birds delight.
The company were so pleased that they begged to hear the song
again,--all except rabbit, who, finding his mistake at last, hopped
further in among the leaves, and hid himself, feeling very much ashamed.
Then yellow-bird, instead of repeating his first song, sang another,
which was sweeter still. It told how full the world might be of love
and happiness, how many such good times as this all creatures might
have, if they would but be gentle and kind, willing to please, and ready
to forgive.
As the last note died away, oriole, impatient to show his skill,
remarked that yellow-bird's song was too much like a sermon; and,
without waiting for invitation, he then gave what seemed to him a better
one.
And it was enchanting music. O, so clear, and wild, and joyous, that it
made the other birds lift their wings, and long to fly!
Hearing a plunge in the water near, and a sigh of pleasure, Minnie
looked down between the branches, and saw a handsome green frog, that
had come to listen to the music; and swarms of little fish, with
rainbow-colors on their silver scales, all listening too.
So the afternoon passed in speeches and music. The squirrels, who could
not sing, told stories that made the company laugh right heartily. Even
Minnie took her part in the entertainment, by relating how people in the
village lived, how they ate, and drank, and slept, and why they did
many things which had puzzled the birds and squirrels amazingly.
All this was as interesting to her listeners as it would be for us to
read Robinson Crusoe, or Dr. Kane's travels among the icebergs and
Esquimaux.
Repeating their thanks to squirrel, and each one politely urging Minnie
to visit him, the company now went home.
Yellow-bird insisted upon taking Minnie on his wings, but soon found the
little woman so heavy that he was satisfied to let her dance along by
squirrel's side, and flew off to find his young. He had, too, a world to
tell his mate about the merry feast, and the queer little lady in whose
honor it was given.
I am afraid all the birds and squirrels that were at the party kept
their mates or their brothers and sisters awake that night, relating
what they had seen and heard. Even the mice talked about it in their
cellars under ground; and oriole did not sleep a wink, he worked so hard
composing a song to Minnie's eyelashes.