Courier Democrat. (Langdon, N.D.) 1891-1920, 1912-03-14
tan and black and long, crisp trailers.

tan and black and long, crisp trailers.
treckles was whispering to himself
Tor fear of disturbing the moth. 1t be-
gan a systematic exercise of raising
and lowering it's exquisite wings to
dry them and to establish circulation.
Freckles realized that it would soon
be able to spread them and sail away.
His long coming soul sent up its first
%shivering cry.
Il don't know what it is. Oh, I wish
l knew! How 1 wish l knew! 1t
must be something grand. It can't be
a butterfly. It's away too big. Oh.
I wish there was some one to tell me
what it is"
He climbed on the locust post and.
balancing himself by the wire. held a
finger in the line of the moths advance
up the twig. 1t unhesitatingly climbed
on. and he stepped back to the path.
holding it up to the light and examin-
ing it closely. Then he held it in the
shade and turned it. gloating over it's
markings and beautiful coloring. When
he held the moth back to the limb it
climbed on. still waving those magnifi-
cent wings.
my. but I'd like to be staying with
you" he said. But if I was to stay
here all day you couldn't get any pref
tier than you are right now and 1
wouldn't get smart enough to tell what
you are. I suppose there's some one
that knows. Of course there is. Mr..
Mclean said there were people that
knew every leaf, bird and flower in the
Limberlost. Oh. lord. how 1 wish you'd
be telling me just this one thingw
The goldfnch had ventured back to
the Wire, for there was his mate only
a few inches above the man creatures
head. and. indeed, he simply must not
be allowed to look up just them, so the
brave little fellow rocked on the wire
and piped up. just as he had done ev-
cry day for Il week, See me; see me?"
See YOU. Of course I see you"
growled i'rprkieS. Il see you day aft
er day, II what good is it doing me?
l might sec you every morning for a
year and then not be able to be telling
any II about it. Seen a bird-little
and yellow rs any canary. with black
silk wings. That's as far as Id get.
What you doing here anyway? Have
you a mate: What's your name? See
you" ! reckon | see you. but l might
as we'll be blind for any good it's doing
me!'
Freckles iinratiently struck the wire.
With Il s"r"rrh of fear the goldfnch
fed precipilately. His mate tore from
off the nest with a whirr. Freckles
looked up AID saw it.
"O-hor." he cried. $50 that's what
you are Going here. You have a WIFE"
Freckles climbed up to examine the
neat, tiny cradle and it's contents. The
hen darted at him in a frenzy. Now.
where do YOU come in" he demanded
when he SAW hat she was not like
the goldfinth.
"You be clearing out of here! This
is non of Your fry. This is the nest
of me little yellow friend Of the wire.
and you shan't be touching it. Don't
blame you for wanting to see though.
My. but it's Il fine nest and beauties OF
eggs. Will you be keeping away or
will I fire this stick at your
Freckles dropped back to the trail.
The hen darted to the nest and settled
on it with a tender. coddling move
ment. He of the yellow coat flew to
the edge to make sure that everything
was right.
"Well, I'll be switched" muttered
LNnn1I~1o~ ere 4I,~4 s4 l.aAI. klo:r
nest! And he's yellow and she's green.
or she's yellow and he's green. Of
course I don't know, and I haven't
any way to find out. but it's plain as
the nose on your face that they are
both ready to be fighting for that nest,
so of course they belong. Don't that
beat you? Say, that's what's been
on that grass nest in the thorn tree
down the line. One day a bluebird
is setting. and I think it is hers. The
next day a brown bird is on. and l
chase it off because the nest is blues.
Next Cay the brown bird is on again.
and l let her be because | think it
must be hers. Next day, be golly,
blues on again, and off I sent her be-
cause it's browns. and now l bet my
hat it's both their nest. and I've only
been bothering them and making a big
fool Of meself."
Freckles plodded on down the trail.
scowling blackly and viciously spang-
ing the wire. At the fnches' nest he
left the line and peered into the thorn
tree. There was no bird brooding. He
pressed closer to take a peep at the
snowy, spotless little eggs he had
found so beautiful. and at the slight
noise up 1ared four tiny baby heads
with wide open mouths and hunger
cries. Freckles stepped back. The
brown bird lit on the edge and closed
one cavity with a wiggling green
worm, and not two minutes later the