The Birmingham age-herald., 1907-07-21


 will gO into ectasies over the works of a Moran or Bierstadt and will not look twice at the surging sea and the glories of me mountains.
 Oh, this is a beautiful world in which the good Lord lets his sparrows and his human children dwell 1 once read of a young man who was walking along d dusty road in England. There by chance his eye caught sight of a golden sov- ereign, which in our money is equal to about $5. Ever after that, the story said, this young man went through life watching the dirty, filthy roads in order to find some more gold. At last he be- came a miser, because he always kept his eyes and nose turned toward the dirt for money. Some of us in life are like the young man of the story book we keep our eyes turned toward the dirt. In order to make money and find money in unexpected places we become so sordid that we cannot see the beauty of the stars and hills and valleys in which the birds live nor the temporal blessings of life with which God has surrounded us. If God Is giving to the sparrows of the air, not worth penny apiece. a beauti- ful world to live in, is he not giving to us as many temporal blessings, o ye of little faith?
 But as I was sitting in the woods some
 
 thinking about the small birds of the Bible, I heard a great chatterlng and a scolding by my side. I looked down, and there was a little bird hopping about my camp table. She seemed to be saying to me: What are you doing here? This Is my property. You are intruding on my maternal domain. I must look after my children. and you are worrying me almost to death. I cannot stand this strain any longer" Then this little bird flew off n short distance and began to chatter to her mate. This husband was a solemn, dignified bird. He seemed to be much older than she. Then I thought I heard the male bird cry: My dear, do not worry. That man will not hurt you nor your children. He is not A hun ter. See, he has a pen in his hand. That Is no gun. Go ahead and feed the babies. He will not trouble them" Thus he coaxed and pleaded and at last quieted her. It took long time to persuade the fretting wife not to worry. I thought by the way she turned her eyes upon me she seemed to say: Husband, 1 think you are wrong. That is the same man l saw running about these woods the other day with a shotgun over his shoulder. But I will follow your advice and go and look after the children Then I saw this mother bird fly into a small green tree by my side, and at once I saw the nest. Then four mouths shot up over the nest. Those little 1edglings seemed to be all mouths, and they seemed to say, There Is mother and dinner has come at last" "Ah," said I to myself as I watched the anxieties of that moth- CT bird, God not only gives to the little birds beautiful world to live in, but he also makes that beautiful world glow with the tender ties of domestic love. Has not God blessed your life with the love of mother and father and husband and wife and child as he has blessed the love life of a little bird?
 The Old Cherry Tree.
 There may be more beautiful trees than the old cherry tree which grew just to the left of our window in the old fash toned house where we were born. Many years ago the worms played havoc with with some of It's branches. The old trunk had a lump on 1t, as though the winter winds had pushed against 1t too long and too hard, as our gray haired grandfather had rounded shoulders from bearing the burdens of his three score years and ten. The cherries on that tree were not as luscious as they might have been. Father often said the tree had outlived It's use- fitness, but he hated to cut 1t down. But, though that tree was not as tall and straight as 1t might have been, 1t was the
 
 red breasted robins who came there year after year to build their nest Though the storm would be beating against the house at the time, yet no sooner would we see these harbingers of spring than we would cry: Spring is comingl Here are the robins!" Then the two birds would fly down. expecteing the crumbs that were always awaiting them, and as they would fly up to the tree they tn f"INhia Is the best tree in all the world for us, because 1t has about it's leaves the associations Of love Here we have raised our young and here we will come until we die.'
 There may be handsomer homes in this world than the one in which you started with your mate to build your little nest Aye. you may be living in a handsomer home now, upon more prominent street, surrounded by wealthier neighbors, but the most beautiful home you ever saw was the little two story building into which you first took your bride You had cheap beds in that little home. You had a cheap dining table and a cheap parlor set, but they were the tables and the sofas and the chairs of love. The other day one of your daughters may have come to you and said: Father, let us burn up that old crib. It is big, old fashioned. ungainly thing. It is al ways in the way. No one wants 1t around. Besides, not one of the chil- dren would ever take it for a gift Somehow you did not like the way your daughter spoke. A faraway look came into your eyes as you said: Daughter, nobody may want that crib but me, and 1t may be in the way of some people, but 1t is never in my way. I want to keep It. That was the crib where all my babies first slept That was the place where I most often think of your dead mother when she was putting her small- est one to sleep while another baby was tugging at her skirts. You may do with that crib as you will after I am gone, but as long as live I shall keep it. Why daughter. that crib is not made out of plain wood. Iris true it Is old fashioned, but 1t Is made out of old fashioned love- As I saw that mother bird in the woods lowering over her nest and heard her talking to her mate I said: "Thank God that the world is sweeter and more love-