A RAINY DAY ON THE LAWN
When the sun rose, that morning late in April, he tried and tried tolook at the big house and see what was happening. All he could see wasa thick gray cloud veil stretched between him and the earth, and,shine as hard as he might, not a single sunbeam went through thatveil.
When the Blackbirds awakened, they found a drizzling rain falling, andhurried on their waterproofs to get ready for a wet time. Blackbirdsare always handsome, yet they never look better than when it rains.They coat their feathers with oil from the pockets under their tails,as indeed all birds do, and then they fly to the high branches of sometall and swaying tree and talk and talk and talk and talk. They donot get into little groups and face each other, but scatter themselvesaround and face the wind. This is most sensible, for if one of themwere to turn his back to the wind, it would rumple up his feathers andgive the raindrops a chance to get down to his skin. When they speak,or at least when they have anything really important to say, theyruffle their own feathers and stand on tip-toe, but they ruffle themcarefully and face the wind all the time.
When the Robins opened their round eyes, they chirped cheerfully toeach other and put on their waterproofs. "Good weather for us," theysaid. "It will make fine mud for plastering our new nests, and it willbring out the Worms."
The English Sparrows, Goldfinches, and other seed-eaters were not madehappy by the rain. With them it was only something to be bornepatiently and without complaining. The Hummingbirds found fewerfresh blossoms open on cloudy days, and so had to fly farther and workharder for their food. The Pewees and other fly-catchers oiled theirfeathers and kept steadily at work.
"O MOTHER, IT IS RAINING!" _Page 175_]
The birds had not awakened so early as usual, because it was darker.They had hardly got well started on their breakfast before a sleepylittle face appeared at the window of the big house and a sleepylittle voice called out: "O Mother, it is raining! I didn't want it torain."
"Foolish! Foolish! Foolish!" chirped the Robins on the lawn. "Boyswould know better than to say such things if they were birds."
"Boys are a bother, anyway," said an English Sparrow, as he spatteredin the edge of a puddle. "I wish they had never been hatched."
"Ker-eeeee!" said a Blackbird above his head. "I suppose they may beof some use in the world. I notice that the Gentleman and the Ladyseem to think a great deal of this one, and they are a very good sortof people."
"I'd like them better if they didn't keep a Cat," said his brother."Their Cat is the greatest climber I ever saw. He came almost to thetop of this maple after me yesterday, and I have seen him go clear tothe eaves of the big house on the woodbine."
"That is because the Sparrows live there," said Mr. Wren. "He went tosee their children. Silvertip says that he is very fond ofchildren--they are so much more tender than their parents." Mr. Wrencould laugh about this because his own children were always safelyhoused. Besides, you know, he had reason to dislike Sparrows.
"I would not stay here," said a Sparrow who had just come up, "if thepeople here were not of the right sort. They have mountain ash treesand sweetbrier bushes where birds find good feeding. And in the winterthat Boy throws out bread crumbs and wheat for us."
"Humph!" said the Oldest Blackbird. "There is no need of talking somuch about it. You can always tell what sort of people live in a placeby seeing if they have a bird-house. If they have, and it is asensible one, where a bird could live comfortably, they are allright."
After that the birds worked more and talked less, for the OldestBlackbird, while he was often grumpy and sometimes cross, was really avery sensible bird, and what he had said was true. The Robins wenthere and there over the lawn in quick, short runs, pausing once in awhile with their heads bent forward and then pulling up choice Wormsto eat. Some of their mouthfuls were half as long as they, but thatwas not rude in Robins. What they insist on in bringing up theirchildren is that mouthfuls should not be too broad, and that theyshould not stop swallowing until all the Worm is out of sight.
The Blackbirds hunted in a more dignified way. They never ran afterfood, or indeed after anything else. "If walking is not fast enough,"the Blackbird mothers say, "then fly, but do not run." They walked inparties over the lawn and waggled their heads at each step. When theyfound Grubs they did not appear greedy, yet never a Grub escaped.
"There are two ways of hurrying," they often said. "One is the jerkyway and the other is our way, of being sure and steady. Of course ourway is the better. You will see that we do just as much and make lessfuss."
Silvertip came to the edge of the porch and looked around. He waslicking his lips, and every bird on the lawn was happy to see that,for it meant that he had just finished his breakfast. His eyesgleamed and his tail waved stiffly as he saw the fat Robins so near.He even crouched down and took four short steps, quivering his bodyand trying his muscles. Then he remembered how wet the grass was andturned back with a long sigh. After all, his stomach was full and hecould afford to wait until the grass was dry. The Robins would bethere then, and if they kept on eating Worms at this rate, they wouldbe growing plump and juicy all the time. He began to lick himself allover, as every truly tidy Cat does after eating. By the time he hadfinished the tip of his tail he was sleepy, so he went into thekitchen and dozed by the fire.
The front door opened with a bang, and the Little Boy stood there,shouting and waving a piece of red paper with a string tied to it."See my kite!" he cried. "Whee-ee-ee!"
Five birds who had been feeding near flew off in wild alarm. "Now whydid he do that?" asked one, after they had settled down elsewhere.Nobody answered. None but Little Boys understand these things, andeven they do not always tell.
The Lady came to the door behind him and helped him start away. Heproudly carried a small new umbrella, and the precious kite flutteredout behind him. When he was outside the gate, he peeped through it andcalled back: "Good-by, Mother! I'm going to school to learn everyfing.I'll be a good Boy. Good-by!" Then he ran down the walk with theumbrella held back over his shoulder and the rain falling squarely inhis face. All that the birds could see of the Little Boy then was hisfat legs bobbing along below the umbrella.
"There!" said all the birds together. "There! Silvertip is asleep andthe Little Boy has gone to school. Now we can take comfort."
* * * * *
When the morning was nearly past, and the birds felt so safe that theyhad grown almost careless, Silvertip wakened and felt hungry. Hewalked slowly out of the kitchen door and looked at the grass. The sunwas now shining, and it was no longer sparkling with tiny drops. Hecrept down the steps and around to a place under a big spruce tree,the lower branches of which lay along the ground. A fat Robin washunting near by.
Silvertip watched her hungrily, and if you were a Cat you might havedone exactly the same thing. So you must not blame Silvertip. He wascreeping, creeping, creeping nearer, and never looking away from her,when the Little Boy came tramping across the grass. He had come in bythe gate of the driveway, and was walking straight toward Silvertip,who neither saw nor heard him.
Then the Little Boy saw what was happening, and dropped his brightpaper chain on the grass beside him. "G'way!" he cried, waving hisumbrella. "G'way! Don't you try to eat any birds 'round here. Myfather doesn't 'low it. G'way! G'way! Else I'll tell my mother thatyou are a _bad_ Cat."
Silvertip fled under the porch, the Robin flew up onto the snowballbush, and all around the birds sang the praises of the good Little Boywith the umbrella. But the Little Boy didn't know this. He stood bythe porch and dangled his pretty paper chain until Silvertip forgavehim and came out to play. Then they ran together into the house, andthe birds heard him shouting, "Mother! Mother! Where are you? I wantto give Silvertip some cream. He is so very hungry that he most had toeat up a Robin, only I wouldn't let him."
Dooryard Stories Page 16