File:Birds of song and story (1901) (14746358254).jpg

Identifier: cu31924000168892 (find matches)
Title: Birds of song and story
Year: 1901 (1900s)
Authors: Grinnell, Elizabeth, 1851- Grinnell, Joseph, 1877-1939. joint author
Subjects: Birds
Publisher: Chicago, A. W. Mumford
Contributing Library: Cornell University Library
Digitizing Sponsor: MSN

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Text Appearing Before Image:
d be scarce, even in the barnyard litter, maythe meadow-lark be seen. Yes, seen and heard! Very often he is heard and notseen. And no one need see him to know him. His song ishis passport to everybodys heart. Theres the meadow-lark! exclaims a white-haired man, bent with much listen-ing and many sorrows, leaning on memory and his strongcane for support. And his eye brightens, as no youthful eyecan shine, at sound of the familiar melody. Yes, he says,that is the meadow-lark. Hes somewhere down in theopen. I knew him when I was a boy. And the old man, who is a boy again, walks weakly off tothe nearest field, bent on flushing the comrade of his child-hood. He sits feebly down on a log and rests. It is thesame log he climbed when he was a boy. It was not hori-zontal as long ago as that, but perpendicular, and was green-topped and full of orioles nests. It lies prone on the groundnow, long ago cut straight in two at the base. And it haslaid there so long it has grown black and mildewed. On
Text Appearing After Image:
THe Meadow-Lark 109 account of this mildew, and the toadstools that have rufHedand fluted and bedecked its softened bark, the insect peoplehave made their home in it. The old man sitting there, waiting for the meadow-lark toappear, thinks not of the insect people, but of the lark. Withthe tip of his strong cane he breaks off a piece of the serriedbark, and a spider scurries down the side of the log and intothe grass. He chips off another piece, and a bevy of sow-bugsmake haste to tumble over and play dead, curling their legsunder their sides, but recovering their senses and scurryingoff after the spider. The cane continues to chip off the bark,and down tumble all sorts of wood people, some of themhiding like a flash in the first moist earth they come to; othersnever stopping until they are well under the log, where experi-ence has taught them they will be safe out of harms way.And they declare to themselves, and to each other, that theywill never budge from under that log until it is

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