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Page 40
Did you know reader, that the snow-bird is a very affectionate creature? It
seems that it is so. Some years ago one of them flew into a house, where,
finding itself quite welcome, it remained over night. By accident, however,
it was killed in the morning, and one of the servants threw it into the
yard. In the course of the day, one of the family witnessed a most
affecting scene in connection with the dead body. Its mate was standing
beside it, mourning its loss. It placed its beak below the head of its
companion, raised it up, and again warbled its song of mourning. By and by
it flew away, and returned with a grain or two of wheat, which it dropped
before its dead partner. Then it fluttered its wings, and endeavored to
call the attention of the dead bird to the food. Again it flew away, again
it returned, and used the same efforts as before. At last, it took up a
kernel of the wheat, and dropped it into the beak of the dead bird. This
was repeated several times. Then the poor bereaved one sang in the same
plaintive strain as before. But the scene was too affecting for the lady
who witnessed it. She could bear the sight no longer, and turned away. I
have loved the snow-bird more than ever since this story was told me, and
so has my friend Julia.
Now I think of it, I have in one of the storerooms of my memory, a song
about the snow-bird. It is rather simple and childish--possibly too much so
for boys and girls of your age. However, as we are somewhat musical just
now, after talking so much about birds, and are greatly in want of a song,
I will sing this about Emily and the Snow-Bird, and you may join in the
chorus, if you like.
SONG OF THE SNOW-BIRD.
I.
The ground was all cover'd with snow one day,
And two little sisters were busy at play,
When a snow-bird was sitting close by on a tree,
And merrily singing his chick-a-de-de,
Chick-a-de-de, Chick-a-de-de,
And merrily singing his chick-a-de-de.
[Illustration: THE SISTERS AND THE SNOW-BIRD]
II.
He had not been singing that tune very long,
Ere Emily heard him, so loud was his song.--
"O sister! look out of the window," said she;
"Here's a dear little bird, singing chick-a-de-de.
Chick-a-de-de, &c.
III.
"Poor fellow! he walks in the snow and the sleet,
And has neither stockings nor shoes on his feet;
I pity him so! how cold he must be!
And yet he keeps singing his chick-a-de-de.
Chick-a-de-de, &c.
IV.
"If I were a barefooted snow-bird, I know
I would not stay out in the cold and the snow.--
I wonder what makes him so full of his glee;
He's all the time singing that chick-a-de-de.
Chick-a-de-de, &c.
V.
"O mother! do get him some stockings and shoes,
And a nice little frock, and a hat, if he choose;
I wish he'd come into the parlor, and see
How warm we would make him, poor chick-a-de-de."
Chick-a-de-de, &c.
VI.
The bird had flown down for some pieces of bread,
And heard every word little Emily said;
"How queer I would look hi that dress!" thought he;
And he laughed, as he warbled his chick-a-de-de.
Chick-a-de-de, &c.
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