Dickey Downy
Dickey Downy
The Autobiography of a Bird
Book Excerpt
r can I
believe that woman, tender-hearted woman, who is all love and mercy,
all gentleness and pity, never can I believe she is our enemy." And
resolving to ask my mother to more fully explain her unjust assertion I
fell asleep.
But a source of fresh anxiety arose which for a time caused me to forget the matter.
The lindens which fringed the wood were now in full leafage, adorned with their delicate ball-like tassels, and hosts of birds flitted among them daily. Many of them were of the kind frequently known as indigo birds, smaller than the ordinary bluebird. In color they were of the metallic cast of blue which has a sheen distinct from the rich shade seen on the jay's wings or the brilliance of the bluebird. Flashing in and out among the hanging blossoms their beautiful blue coats made them an easy target for the boys who attended the neighborhood country school.
[Illustration: The Indigo Bird.]
To bring down a sweet songster with a shower of stones, panting and bleeding to the ground, the
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