Part 9 (1/2)

And such a kind husband! how early and late He would sit at the top of the old garden gate, And sing, just asne'er out of patience, or temper, or tune

”So unlike those Rooks, dear; fro but quarrel and fight, And wrangle and jangle, and plunder--while we Sit, honest and safe, in our pretty thorn-tree”

Just while she was speaking, a lively young Rook Alit with a flap that the thorn-bush quite shook, And seizing a stick frohbor”--fleith it away The lady loud twittered--her husband soon heard: Though peaceful, he was not a cowardly bird; And with arguh to o'erwhelm A whole Rookery--flew to the top of the el to say; But a civiller sentiood, and it anyhow shaentlemen names:) ”Pray what is youryour mansion with other folks' sticks?

I request you'll restore them, in justice and law”

At which the whole colony set up a--caw!

But Blackbird, not silenced, then spoke out again; ”I've built ing gentleh cockneys do often mistake s, And neither e'er pilfers, or borrows, or begs

Now have I not right on my side, do you see?”

But they flew at and pecked him all down the elm-tree

Ah! wickedness prospers sometimes, I much fear; And virtue's not always victorious, that's clear: At least, not at first: for it must be confessed Poor Blackbird lost hbors with scoffing cas, In his voice and his character found many flaws, And jeered him and mocked hi cheerily on

At length May arrived with her garlands of leaves; The sere building beneath the fare-side, Were bringing their fareat pride; While far above all, on the tallest tree-top, With a flutter and clahty old Rooks held their heads up so high, And drea at seven, as he caht To his wife's pretty parlor offed all his faThat : Most likely his nest's there--how frightened he looks!

Nay, Blackie, we're not come for you, but the Rooks”

I don't say 'twas cruel--I can't say 'twas kind-- On the subject I haven't quite , alas!

And young Rooks kept dropping aood Mr Blackbird, atched the whole thing, For pity could scarcely a single note sing, And in the May sunset he hardly could bear To hear the returning Rooks' caw of despair

”O, dear Mrs Blackbird,” at last warbled he, ”How happy we are in our hu honest and poor, Hoeet are the may-blossoms over our door”

”And then our dear children,” the mother replied, And she nested them close to her warm feathered side, And with a soft twitter of drowsy content, In the quiet May ht to sleep they all went

THE SHAKING OF THE PEAR-TREE

OF all days I re of the pear-tree,”

In grande old-fashi+oned orchard, With long grass under foot, And blackberry-braled shoot

From cherry time, till damsons Dropped from the branches sere, That wonderful old orchard Was full of fruit all year;

We pick'd it up in baskets, Or pluck'd it frorandest treat of all

Long, long the days we counted Until that day drew nigh; Then, hoatched the sun set, And criticised the sky!

If rain--”'Twill clear at ray, ”OTurns out a lovely day”

So off we started gaily, Heedless of jolt or jar; Through town and lane, and haone--Llewellyn, These twenty years, I doubt: If I put him in this poem, He'll never find it out,