  A soft little breeze was blowing. It was warm, and it had in it the smell of green things growing—trees, and buds, and grass, and flowers. Little birds were singing. And they had joy and gladness in their voices. And the colors of the rainbow were in their feathers. Little brooks were flowing—flowing and growing into rivers. They sparkled in the merry sunshine, and their laughter could be heard everywhere they went. The whole forest was glad. Why? Because it was spring, merry spring. And Father Thrift was plowing his garden and Shaggy Bear was helping him. And do you know how they worked together? Father Thrift held the handles of the plow and Shaggy pulled it. He was the horse. A funnier sight you have never seen! The ground was hard, so that no seed could grow in it. Father Thrift turned the earth over with his plow. This loosened the soil and made it soft. The robins followed the plow and found nice large angleworms for their breakfast. Then they sang this song: Cheerily cheer-up! Cheerily cheer-up! Cheerily cheer, we’re glad you’re here, Little fat worms. Oh, cheerily cheer-up, Cheerily cheer, we’re glad you’re here! But the little fat worms only turned and squirmed. They sang no song at all. The crows and the blackbirds followed Father Thrift, too. They ate the grub worms and the beetles and other insects which they found. Then, when the ground was ready, Father Thrift and Shaggy Bear planted the seeds. The robins did not follow them now. But the crows and the blackbirds did. And do you know what they were doing? They were eating the seeds almost as fast Father Thrift stopped in his work. “Crows and blackbirds,” he said, “you must not do that.” “Why?” asked one old crow. “We always have done it.” “Yes, I know you have,” replied Father Thrift. “And that is what has given you such a bad name with the farmer. “By eating the seed or pulling up sprouting corn you spoil the crop. And so you have less food for yourselves in the end.” “How is that?” asked Cousin Blackbird. “Well,” explained Father Thrift, “every grain of corn you eat now would make ears of corn if you let it stay in the ground to grow. “And of every ear of corn grown some kernels are left in the field in the shocking. So that for every kernel not eaten now you would have many kernels in the autumn. “Besides, if you will keep the bad bugs and worms and grasshoppers out of my garden, I promise to give you every tenth ear of all the corn I grow.” Then the crows got together. And all you could hear from them was a loud “Caw, caw, caw!” But they must have agreed that Father Thrift’s proposal was a fair one. The old crow spoke for all the crows. He said: “We will do as you ask, Father Thrift. We wish all farmers were as reasonable with us. “We help the farmer, but we get no credit for it. We eat many, many grasshoppers and beetles and worms and caterpillars and weevils every year. “These would be at work destroying the farmer’s crops if we did not eat them. And, for all that, the farmer is always chasing and killing us.” “No,” said Father Thrift, “the farmer does “Caw, caw, caw!” cried all the crows. I suppose they meant, “Yes, yes, yes.” But whether or not they meant what they said I don’t know. As for the blackbirds, whatever was agreeable to the crows was satisfactory to them. And they flew away singing, “Conk-err-ee! Conk-err-ee!” And as Father Thrift and Shaggy Bear sat down under a tree to rest, Mr. Robin sang his song from the topmost bough. It was like this: Cheerily cheer-up! Cheerily cheer-up! Cheerily cheer, five of us here; Mother and me, and babies three. Cheer up, Cheerily cheer, we’re happy here. You see, Mr. Robin’s English was not perfect, but he was too happy to be careful. |
|
