Dickey Downy - The Autobiography of a Bird by Virginia Sharpe Patterson
page 58 of 121 (47%)
page 58 of 121 (47%)
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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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