The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1888-08-18
A WICKED DEED.

The Happy Home-I1ow 1t Was RuthlessIy
Destroyed by Thoughtless Fun-Loving
Boys.
High up among the boughs of an old
apple-tree, in farmer Browns orchard,
two robins had built a pretty little nest.
Twigs and straw and leaves had been
used in making it, and inside it was
lined with soft bits of cotton and hair.
Perched on high branch of the tree,
hidden by lovely apple-blossoms and
by young, tender green leaves, surely
amOre secluded and more beautiful spot
could not have been found. IN little
while four cunning eggs appeared in
the nest, and then four cunning little
brides, with wide open mouths and
chipping cries, were added to the fam
lily circle.
! The parent birds were as happy as
the day was long, and in their language
for birds do talk, you know-praised
their little ones and rejoiced in their
sweet little home.
Every morning the father bird flew
away bright and early to get break
fast for his family. Then he would
perch upon the edge of the nest, or fly
upon the boughs near it, and talk to
his little ones, amusing them until the
mother bird came back.
So days passed, each one like the
other, until the wee brides were almost
old enough to fly. They were grow
ing large and strong, with an increas-
ing appetite, and constant demand
for the worms, flies and other choice
bits Of food brought them by their
parents. 1t was happy home, but
oh! the pity of it that it should be
ruthlessly destroyed!
One morning the father bird said to
his wife, My dear, am going some
distance from home this morning to get
some dainties for you and the little
ones. Don't feel worried if am late.
And away he flew, darting swiftly
through the bright sunshine, intent
upon the surprise he was going to take
back to the nest.
Some grown-up people are just stupid
enough to insist that birds and animals
have no language of their own, but
they are mistaken; every thing that
has life has Il means of communica-
ton with the species, and it is to them
what our language is to us. Birds,
and beasts and insects plot and plan,
love and hate, quarrel and make up,
just as we do, and they also experience
sorrow and joy. ...
A few days previous, while flying
through a swamp below the orchard,
Robin had discovered a root birds are
particularly fond of, and had deter
mined to take home supply
at the very first opportunity; and
on this beautiful morning he in
tended going foraging, to see what nice
things he could find. Reaching the
swamp, he began to cut off bits of the
dainty with his sharp little bill, carry
ing them one by one to the high
branches of tree, near by, so thew
would be safe until he could put them
in the home storehouse Suddenly he
was startled by sound all birds fear
the noise of boyish voices. Looking
about sharply with his bright, bead
like eyes, he spied group of boys
coming around bend in the swamp,
laughing, talking and shouting as boys
always do when they are in the coun-
try for q holiday, or, for that matter,
at any time and any where.
These were not bad boys-at least
you could not think so after glancing
at them. They were well dressed,
neat, and bright, intelligent little fell
lows, full of fun and mischief, and de-
termined to get every bit Of pleasure
possible out of the day before returning
to their city homes. Not wicked boys,
yet in a few hours they had spread
ruin and riot before them and after
them, and on every side of them, and
left turmoil and trouble in their wake.
First, they caught a stray dog, tied
an old tin can to his tail, and then
chased him down the road, hooting
and yelling like band of Comanche
Indians; then they raced Il pet kitten
up tree, and frightened the poor lit
tie thing almost to death by throwing
stones at it; chased the chickens about
the yard until they were ready to drop
from exhaustion; and finally beat the
poor pigs with switches until their in
dignant squeals brought every body to
the pen to see what was the matter.
This last exploit secured their Danish
ment from the farm until dinner, so
they started out to amuse themselves
In other ways, and here they were.
Robins was an old bird, and knew
better than TO trust himself 10 the
5gi ft.