short story about birds Archive

THE OWL AND THE MOON HEN the moon is round and full, if you look very carefully at the golden disk you can see in shadowy outline the profile of a beautiful lady. She is leaning forward as if looking down upon our earth, and there is a little smile upon her sweet lips. This fair dame is Putri Balan, the Princess of the Moon, and she smiles because she remembers how once upon a time she cheated old Mr. Owl, her tiresome lover. Putri Balan, so they tell you in Malay, was always very, very beautiful, as we see her now. Like all the Malay women, Putri Balan loved to chew the spicy betel-nut which turns one’s lips a bright scarlet. It is better, [&hellip

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THE GROUND-PIGEON NCE upon a time there was a little Malay maiden who lived in the forest with her father and mother and baby sister. They dwelt very happily together, until one day Coora’s father decided to clear the ground on the edge of the forest and have a rice plantation, as many of his neighbors were doing. So one morning early after breakfast he started out with his axe on his shoulder to cut down the trees and make a clearing. “O Father, let me go with you!” begged Coora. “I do so want to see the plantation grow from the very beginning.” But her father said No, she must stay at home until the trees were felled. “And after that may I go [&hellip

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WHY THE NIGHTINGALE WAKES HEN the other birds are sound asleep in their nests, with their little heads tucked comfortably under their feathers, Sister Nightingale, they say, may not rest, but still sounds the notes of her beautiful song in grove and thicket. Why does she sing thus, all night long as well as through the day? It is because she dares not go to sleep on account of the Blindworm, who is waiting to catch her with her eyes closed. Once upon a time, when the world was very new, the Blindworm was not quite blind, but had one good eye. Moreover, in those days the Nightingale also had but one eye. As for the Blindworm, it mattered very little; for he was a [&hellip

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THE PIOUS ROBIN “Art thou the bird whom man loves best, The pious bird with the scarlet breast, Our little English Robin?” Wordsworth. HE English Robin is not precisely like our little American friend whom we call by that name, although, as the lines of poetry quoted above will show, in two ways he is the same as ours: he has a red breast, and he is the bird whom every one loves. Of all the little brothers of the air, in every land and clime, the pretty, jolly, neighborly Robin Redbreast is the favorite. There are many stories about him: some which tell how he came by his scarlet breast, others which explain why he has always been best beloved of the birds. I [&hellip

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HOW THE BLUEBIRD CROSSED F course every one knows that the Bluebird was made from a piece of the azure sky itself. One has only to match his wonderful color against the April heaven to be sure of that. Therefore the little Bluebird was especially dear to the Spirit of the sky, the Father in Heaven. One day this venturesome little bird started out upon a long journey across the wide Pacific Ocean toward this New World which neither Columbus nor any other man had yet discovered. Under him tossed the wide, wide sea, rolling for miles in every direction, with no land visible anywhere on which a little bird might rest his foot. For this was also before there were any islands in all [&hellip

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