The Colfax chronicle. [volume] (Colfax, Grant Parish, La.) 1877-1981, 1882-07-15
A Bird ldyi.

A Bird ldyi.
As. they stood. together, looking out
into ne gardena she raised her eyes
softly tthis, and. while an expression of
sweet suspense crept softly over her
pretty face, marmured:
don't the little birds have a nice
time?'
20, yes" he answered. ssthey do
that. They have political sinecures with
out voting or having to get congressman
10 back them And they are in for life,
and they can't write letters that will ex-
pose them ten years later, and they
haven't got war records to be sprung on
them at the wrong moment, and they
know nothing about finance to get them
into trouble. o, yes, darling, the birds
have a pretty nice time of it.
'.But their lives seem to be made up of
love-" she whispered family.
Eyes; but you mustn't bet too heavily
on love. have seen human beings
whose lives seemed to be made up OF
love; but, when there was no one around,
their home assumed the character of a
political caucus, with good-sized tor
nado emptied into the free fight. You
mustn't judge the feelings of married
couple for each other by the way they
act at kettle-drum. But then, the birds
have the advantage over men in making
love-, 49, s.,e -,
"No jokes on bills and .notes?' /" she
broke in.
mo-" he replied, "but because they
have sure thing. They don't have to
go down town and write poetry and put
in coal all day for four dollars per week,
and they never have to save up money to
pay for ice-cream and theater parties.
They never have to buy clothes, and
when they do fall in love they are not
talked about all over creation, and they
don't have to meander up to the girls
father and tell him lot of lies, and
prime their references to do likewise.
o, yes, the bird in love has pretty soft
thing.
"Do you think they understand each
other when they twitter.'
Il don't think there can be any doubt
about that, because the male seems to
wax mad when the female gets in all the
talk. Now that female over there seems
to be in the act of mailing her lord for a
new dress, or commanding him not to be
looking at that other bird over there in
the polonaise. OF course they under
stand each other, or else they would keep
STILL"
"Would you like to be bird P"
mot much" ne replied, with great
emphasis, II wouldn't like the idea
of getting up at five in the morning, and
washing in dew on a soggy fower-bed,
and squawking off a lot Of rapture over
a breakfast of raw worms. o. no, /
don't want any bird in mine. would
rather sell suspenders on commission I"
.'But, suppose we were both birds?"
she said, with slight tremor in her
voice.
Then we should have to dodge the
cat. and boys with guns, and we'd have
to live in trees and have dull time, and
no lemonade through straws. And 1
shouldn't have to call on you in tight
shoes and swallow-tail coat And we'd
sit on currant bush, and kiss with our
bills-hard, cold, solidified bone kisses
just think of it! And shouldn't have
any shirt front for you to lay your head
on. And, if / reached out for handful
of waist wouldn't run the risk of hav-
ing yard of my palm torn of on pin
which,
What becomes of the birds?' she
broke in, while an early-dawn tint suf-
fused her features.
go south for their health, generally;
but if we were birds we might be knocked
down with sticks and stuffed to ornament
a mantel-piece or lady's hat How
would you like to be filled with lot Of
sawdust and chemicals?''
mot much. I'd rather be stuffed
with ice-cream and caramels. But /
mean, what becomes of the bird at last?
We never find them. Now the flowers
fade and blow away, and we know what
becomes ofeverything else. but we never
find dead birds lying in the garden walk.
Do their companions bear them away
and lay them lovingly beneath the leaves?
always had an idea that dainty poetic
legend could be made of it."
at could be done, my dear, and it
would make nice ten dollar poem. But
don't take any stock in musical valleys
and happy spheres millions of miles away
when you figure on birds. They don't
60 to any such place, my dear. They
generally go to the dime restaurant,
where they are worked into pies, or cast
to play the difficult role of the quail on
: toast"
She sank on the sofa in a fiutter, and
he said he would be around on the NOR.
row to take her to the mat-Puck.