"
"Even that is better than the newer fashion of scarcely preening the
feathers at all," observed another of the group. "Many of the young birds
take no pride in their feathers whatever, but devote all their time to
studying the habits of out-of-the-way insects." A chorus of disapproval
from all present supported this remark. "Studies that interfere with a
young hen's appearance should not be permitted," said one bird.
"What is the good of knowing all about insects, when we live on berries
and fruit!" exclaimed another.
"The sight of insects gives one the creeps!" said a third.
"I am thankful to say all my little hens care for nothing beyond playing
at the Bower and preening their feathers," said an affectionate bower bird
mother. "They get a deal of attention paid to them."
No young Satin Bird would look at a learned little bower-hen, said the
bird who had first objected to untidy and studious young hens. "For my
part, I never allow a chick of mine even to mention insects, unless they
are well known beetles!"
Dot thought this chattering very stupid, so she went round a bush to where
the old fathers of the bower birds were perched. They were grave old
fellows, arrayed in their satin blue-black plumage, and she found them
all, more or less, in a grumbling humour.
Pages:
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115