Part 22 (2/2)

”This comes of sending babies a-milking,” said Grandmother, who had seen the disaster from the cottage door. ”Come in,” she added crossly, as the distressed little maid came slowly up the path. ”Thou'rt a bad, careless la.s.s, and shall have no breakfast. Catch me sending thee a-milking again.”

”Wait a bit, Grandmother,” said the old man, in his feeble, quavering voice. ”Did not I hear Tom say that he'd teach the little one to meddle with his job? You must go down the path and see for yourself if it is not one of his tricks. Something must have tripped the child up.”

Grandmother could not refuse to go down the path, but she went unwillingly. Tom was her favorite, and she did not wish to find him out in the wrong. But when she came to the milk-dyed spot, and found the long gra.s.s tied together across the path, she could no longer deny that the child in fault was not little Susie. As she slowly wended her way back to the cottage, she felt not only angry with naughty, idle Tom, but grieved at her own lack of justice to the willing little milkmaid.

Tom's unkind and revengeful conduct did not this time go unpunished; but his grandmother's over-indulgence had sadly spoilt his character, and although she strove hard to remedy the evil, it is doubtful if he will ever learn to be as obedient and unselfish as his good little sister Susie.

MR. BOBOLINK.

”I wish I could catch a bobolink,” said Samuel.

”Let us try to-morrow and see if we cannot catch one in a box trap,”

said his brother Robert.

”That will be real fun,” said little Maggie. And so the three children talked the matter over, and made plans for the morrow.

”You must help me in the morning,” said their father. ”Samuel must drop the corn in the hills for the hired man to cover, Robert will drop the beans, and Maggie must put in the pumpkin-seed. We shall have it all done by ten o'clock, and then you can play the rest of the day. If a flock of bobolinks comes along you may be able to catch one, though they are very shy, and do not stop long in any one place.”

The next morning the sun rose radiantly in the eastern sky, and climbed up among the golden clouds, and all the early birds joined in a glad song of welcome. The robin chanted from the lofty branches of the elm; the bluebird, with plumage brighter than the bluest sky, glided in and out among the apple-trees, and enlivened the scene by its occasional joyous song; the red linnet whistled and chattered in the shrubbery, and the sparrow chirped in the hedge. All around seemed full of life and joy.

The bobolink swung from the highest branches, and poured out his ecstatic feelings in thrilling song.

The children went to the fields amid all this morning music, and tried to translate the song of each bird into English.

The robin chanted, ”Kill him! cure him! Kill him! cure him! Give him physic!”

Who he wanted treated in this manner they could not tell, but that seemed to be the language of his song.

The voice of the linnet or bluebird could not be interpreted easily, but the bobolink spoke very plainly, and seemed personal in his remarks, which were evidently intended for the eldest boy; for he said over and over again, ”Samuel! Samuel!--Samuel, planting, planting. Samuel!

Samuel! planting for bobolink! bobolink!”

This chattering and singing were kept up all the forenoon, and the children resolved that when their play-time came in the afternoon they would set some traps and try to secure one of these saucy songsters, who had been talking so much to Samuel during the forenoon.

Soon as dinner was over the three hurried off to the sheep pasture, where, among the maple-trees, a large flock of bobolinks were evidently resting a day or two on their journey towards Canada, that they might feast on the scattered grains of an old wheat-field near by. The children took a few handfuls of wheat, which they scattered upon the ground; and, as Maggie could sew better than the boys, she strung some grains of wheat on a small thread. This was tied to a slender prop which held up the cover of the trap, which was made by putting four blocks together in the shape of a box. In it was a handful of wheat. When all was ready the children hid behind some shrubbery and watched and waited the result. They whispered to each other, and laid plans concerning what could be done with the bird after he was caught.

Samuel said, ”Sell him. I read of bobolinks being sold at bird-stores in the city for two or three dollars each. We could get money enough to buy snap-crackers and fireworks for next Fourth of July.”

”Oh! I wouldn't do that,” said Robert.

”Nor I,” said little Maggie. ”I should rather go without any money for Fourth of July. Let's keep him, and put him in d.i.c.ky's old cage, and teach him to sing.”

”Perhaps you are counting your game before 'tis caught,” said Robert.

”There are no birds near your trap yet.”

<script>