Only after the country was settled did either
jays or bluebirds winter with us.
The brave, frost-defying chickadees and nuthatches stayed all the year
wholly independent of farms and man's food and affairs.
With the first hints of spring came the brave little bluebirds,
darling singers as blue as the best sky, and of course we all loved
them. Their rich, crispy warbling is perfectly delightful, soothing
and cheering, sweet and whisperingly low, Nature's fine love touches,
every note going straight home into one's heart. And withal they are
hardy and brave, fearless fighters in defense of home. When we boys
approached their knot-hole nests, the bold little fellows kept
scolding and diving at us and tried to strike us in the face, and
oftentimes we were afraid they would prick our eyes. But the boldness
of the little housekeepers only made us love them the more.
None of the bird people of Wisconsin welcomed us more heartily than
the common robin. Far from showing alarm at the coming of settlers
into their native woods, they reared their young around our gardens as
if they liked us, and how heartily we admired the beauty and fine
manners of these graceful birds and their loud cheery song of _Fear
not, fear not, cheer up, cheer up_.
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