On every twig, dead weed,
and spire of withered grass hung innumerable drops that now were water and
again diamonds when touched by the inconstant sun. Sweet-fern grass
abounded in the lawn, and from it exuded an indescribably delicious odor.
The birds were so ecstatic in their songs, so constant in their calls, that
one might think that they, like the children, were making the most of
All-fools' Day, and playing endless pranks on each other. The robins acted
as if nothing were left to be desired. They were all this time in all
stages of relationship. Some had already paired, and were at work upon
their domiciles, but more were in the blissful and excited state of
courtship, and their conversational notes, wooings, and pleadings, as they
warbled the _pros_ and _cons_, were quite different from their
matin and vesper songs. Not unfrequently there were two aspirants for the
same claw or bill, and the rivals usually fought it out like their human
neighbors in the olden time, the red-breasted object of their affections
standing demurely aloof on the sward, quietly watching the contest with a
sidelong look, undoubtedly conscious, however, of a little feminine
exultation that she should be sought thus fiercely by more than one. After
all, the chief joy of the robin world that day resulted from the fact that
the mild, humid air lured the earth-worms from their burrowing, and Amy
laughed more than once as, from her window, she saw a little gourmand
pulling at a worm, which clung so desperately to its hole that the bird at
last almost fell over backward with its prize.
Pages:
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243