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Dickey Downy - The Autobiography of a Bird by Virginia Sharpe Patterson
page 58 of 121 (47%)
The days up here were beautiful, but it was at night that this was a
scene of surpassing loveliness. Far below the lights of the city
glowed like spangles in the darkness. Above us was the star-encrusted
sky. It was like being suspended between a floor and a ceiling of
glittering jewels.

On this plateau grew the biggest cherry trees I ever saw, and they bore
the biggest and sweetest cherries, though I could not taste any at that
time, as the season was past. I heard the landlady complaining one day
to some of her guests that the rascally birds had hardly left her a
cherry to put up.

"The saucy little thieves! they must have eaten bushels of the finest
fruit," she said.

"And didn't you get any?" inquired a childish voice. There was
something familiar in the voice and I flew to the porch railing to see
who it was. And who should it be but dear little Marion. And there
too was her aunty, Miss Dorothy, and the professor, and in the parlor I
caught a glimpse of Miss Katie and the colonel. They were having a
pleasant vacation together.

Marion looked inquiringly into the landlady's face. No doubt she was
thinking the mountain birds were very greedy to eat up all the cherries
and not leave one for the poor woman to can.

"Our birds always eat some of our cherries too," she said, "but they
always leave us plenty."

"There were bushels left on our trees," observed the landlady's
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