Small Janet sits weeping "mid the daisies; "Little sister sweet, Must you follow Roger?" Then he raises Baby on her feet,
Guides her tiny steps with kindness tender, Cheerfully and gay, All his courage and his strength would lend her Up the uneven way,
Till they front the blazing east together; But the sun has rolled Up the sky in the still summer weather, Flooding them with gold.
All forgotten is the boy"s ambition, Low the standard lies, Still they stand, and gaze--a sweeter vision Ne"er met mortal eyes.
That was splendid, Roger, that was glorious, Thus to help the weak; Better than to plant your flag victorious On earth"s highest peak!
CELIA THAXTER.
PART III
OUR FRIENDS THE BIRDS
THE CANARY"S STORY.
Am I happy? No, not quite happy, though I sing as if I were. Do you think that a cage would make you happy if you had wings?
I am willing to say that I am grateful. Helen is very good to me. She never forgets to fill my seed-cup and my gla.s.s of water. Every morning I have my bath and my cage is cleaned. At night I am taken into a cool, dark room to sleep. If the house is too warm I am very uncomfortable, and Helen is careful to keep my sleeping-room cool.
Sometimes Helen takes me out of the cage for a while. It is a great pleasure to fly in and out among the plants in the window. I pretend that I am in the woods. For a time I am very happy.
I was a wretched little bird when Helen"s mother bought me. For days I had been in a tiny wooden box, with no chance to move about. Every morning a man took several of these boxes in his hand and walked up and down the streets crying, "Birds! Singing birds! Only two dollars!" He swung the boxes back and forth until I was sick and dizzy. It seemed to me that I could never sing again.
Then Helen saw me and begged her mother to give the man two dollars, so that she could take me out of the hot sun and the narrow box. How big and bright this cage seemed then!
I am never cold and hungry, it is true, but sometimes I try to fancy how it would seem to be free, to fly where I like under the open sky, and to have other birds near by. I dream of waving branches and distant mountain-tops. I can almost hear the sea pounding on the sunny beaches of those warm islands where I first saw the light. Do you think, if you were I, you could be quite happy?
THE CAGED THRUSH.
Alas for the bird who was born to sing!
They have made him a cage; they have clipped his wing; They have shut him up in a dingy street, And they praise his singing and call it sweet; But his heart and his song are saddened and filled With the woods and the nest he never will build, And the wild young dawn coming into the tree, And the mate that never his mate will be; And day by day, when his notes are heard, They freshen the street, but--alas for the bird!
R. F. MURRAY.
In the "Academy."
HOW TO CARE FOR A CANARY.
The original home of the canary was in the Canary Islands. These are warm, sunny islands not far from the west coast of Africa. Winter is almost unknown there, and before the bird-catchers came the canaries must have led happy lives.
The birds were trapped and sent to all the countries of Europe. The first canaries brought to America came from Germany in 1842. It was a long voyage in a sailing-vessel, and many of the poor little prisoners died on the way.
The birds are put into wicker cages so small that there is scarcely room to stretch their wings. These cages are packed in boxes or crates, and one hundred and sixty-eight birds are sent in one crate.
The birds are kept in the tiny cages until they are sold. The cups of food and water are put inside the cages. Sometimes when they are moved to a larger cage, the birds do not know where to look for their food.
They have been known to die of hunger because they could not find their seed-cups, which in their new cages are on the outside.
Every day, when the cage is cleaned, fresh water and food should be placed in it. Birds like a daily bath in a shallow dish of tepid water.
After the bath they should have an hour or two of liberty. It is unkind to keep them shut up in a cage all the time.
After a bird has had his morning frolic he should not be chased or frightened into his cage. When the little fellow is hungry he will be glad to go back, especially if he sees there a bit of food that he likes. In time he will even learn to fly to the outstretched finger of his master or mistress, and to answer, as well as he can, the caressing tones which he loves.
A canary is one of the most sensitive creatures in the world. A harsh or sudden noise disturbs it, and a severe fright may kill it.
Canaries like the sunshine and dread the cold, but they should not be left in the sun in warm weather. Do not hang the cage in a draught or away from the light. It should be about five feet from the floor and not too near a register or radiator.
Once a month the cage must be thoroughly washed and the perches scalded, if you wish your bird"s home to be healthful. The floor and perches will also need cleaning every day. Coa.r.s.e sand should be sprinkled on the thick, brown paper which covers the bottom of the cage. At night put the cage in a dark room or spread over it a square of soft, dark material, in such a way that the air is not shut out.
The ordinary bath-tub provided for a canary is much too small. Mrs.
Olive Thorne Miller says that it should be nearly as wide as the spread of his wings, so that he can beat the water and toss it over him in a spray. A common earthen saucer belonging to a flower-pot is very good for the purpose. As this saucer will be too large to go through the cage-door, it should be placed on a large folded cloth or paper and the upper part of the cage placed over it. While the bird is taking his bath, the floor of the cage may be made clean for the day.
It is a good plan to give a canary bread, crackers, a little of the hard-boiled yolk of an egg, or a piece of apple. In summer he will enjoy a bunch of chickweed. In winter he may have a bit of lettuce or cabbage leaf. He should have something green every day. Of course he must have also canary and rape seeds, and occasionally a very little hemp seed for a treat.
If the canary or rape seed is poor the bird will scatter it and refuse to eat it. Only seed which is large and clean should be used. It is better to buy each kind by itself and mix them afterwards. The hemp seed is so rich that not more than half a small teaspoonful should be given at a time. Do not mix this with the other seeds, but scatter it on the floor of the cage.
Mosquitoes sometimes annoy a canary very much. A loose bag of netting drawn over the cage will save him from unnecessary suffering. When these poor prisoners are in our care we must do what we can to protect them and make them happy. No true bird-lover would choose to see his pets in cages, but we cannot turn the defenseless little creatures out into the cold. If no one would buy a canary, there would be no more caught, and the cruel business would come to an end. Is it not worth while to think how much better it is to have no caged pets at all? In this free land of ours shall we deny freedom to the bird, which, above all other creatures, needs s.p.a.ce and sunshine?
AN INDIAN STORY.
In a little book about Omaha there is this story which is told by Bright Eyes, the daughter of an Indian chief. "We were out on a buffalo hunt. I was a little bit of a thing when it happened. Father could neither speak English nor read and write, and this story shows that the highest moral worth can exist aside from all civilization and education.
"It was evening. The tents had been pitched for the night, the camp-fire made, and mother and the other women were cooking supper over it.
"I was playing near my father when an Indian boy, a playmate, came up and gave me a little bird which he had found.
"I was very much pleased. I tried to feed it and make it drink. After I had played with it a long time, my father said to me: "My daughter, bring your bird to me."
"When I took it to him he held it in his hand a moment, smoothed its feathers gently, and then said: "Daughter, I will tell you what you might do with your bird. Take it carefully in your hand out yonder where there are no tents, where the high gra.s.s is. Put it softly down on the ground and say as you put it down, "G.o.d, I give you back your little bird. Have pity on me as I have pity on your bird.""
"I said: "Does it belong to G.o.d?"
"He said: "Yes, and He will be pleased if you do not hurt it, but give it back to Him to care for."