Part 21

Old Chief was the name that Grandpa Todd had given to a particularly wise bird, whom he insisted was twenty-five years old at the least, who was master of the roost in the cedar woods and, by his wise guidance, kept his flock the largest in the township, in spite of all the efforts of the farmers, hired men, and boys in the vicinity to drive them out.

There, also, on the slope south of the house, were fully half a hundred Robins pluming themselves, shaking their feathers out to dry, and acting in every way like travellers pausing on a journey, rather than residents going out for a stroll.

Tommy had paused to look at them, balancing the pail carefully as he did so, and then the sight of the birds reminded him that it was the day to go up to “the General’s,” and he hurried in to eat his breakfast and finish the Saturday morning “chores” that he always did for his mother. Then he went to the shed to look over the collection of bits of old wood that he had both begged and gathered far and near for the making of bird-houses.

A neighbour, who was re-covering his cowshed roof with galvanized iron, had let Tommy pick up as many mossy shingles as he could carry, and some of these were really beautiful with tufts of gray lichens, some with bright red tips, blending with mosses of many soft shades of green.

Tommy selected from the assortment as large a bundle as he could carry, and, after cording it securely, went to the house to tidy up, for Gray Lady had asked the children of the Kind Hearts’ Club to come at nine o’clock this first Saturday, for it would take them some time to look at the play and work rooms before settling down to doll-dressing and bird-house making. As he crossed the kitchen, his mother, who was kneading bread, pointed a floury finger toward a garment that hung over the back of a chair. Tommy picked it up, and then his usual boyish indifference, which he kept up at home even when he was pleased, broke down and he gave an exclamation of delight, for there was a new carpenter’s apron with a pocket for nails in front, the whole being made of substantial blue jean, precisely like the one worn by Jacob Hughes himself.

Gray Lady had asked as many of the boys as owned overalls to bring them. Tommy’s were very old and had many patches, besides being smeared with paint, and he hated to have dainty Goldilocks see them, so it seemed to the boy that his mother must have seen straight into his mind (as mothers have a way of doing) and read what he most needed.

Slipping his head through the yoke and fastening the waist-band in place, Tommy suddenly grabbed his mother, flour, bread, and all, in a rough embrace, and then clattered up the backstairs, laughing at the two white hand-marks that she had printed on his shoulder in her surprise.

* * * * *

Up at “the General’s” house Gray Lady, Goldilocks, Ann, and Jacob Hughes were as busy as possible making preparations for the first regular meeting of the Club. To the children, the whole performance in anticipation seemed like the most delightful sort of play, but every one who thinks will realize how much pains Gray Lady was taking to have everything in order for the children’s first view of the place. After this, like the wise friend that she was, she had planned that the children themselves would in turn take out the work, put it away, and clear up threads or shavings as the case might be.

The playroom was on the southeast corner of the attic, and had three dormer-windows with wide seats underneath. Being an attic, the windows were set rather high in the slanting room, but, if one stood on the wooden seats, there was a beautiful view toward the river valley on the south, while the east window looked down over the orchard, and it seemed as if one might almost step out and walk upon the tree-tops.

On the chimney side was a small-sized cooking-stove, and between this and the chimney-corner ran shelves with a cupboard beneath, whereon and in a set of blue-and-white dishes and various pots and pans were ranged. At either end of the room was a stout table surrounded by chairs, one being a kitchen table with a drawer, and the other a plain dining table with a polished top, suitable for playing games, or holding books or work. It was upon this table that the work-boxes and dolls were ranged, twelve in all, and by each a little pile of clothes, all cut and ready-basted, the whole being covered by a cloth. Gray Lady and Ann had agreed between themselves that lessons in sewing had better come first and garment-cutting follow later on.

All the garments were to be made to put on and take off like real clothes, and though they were very simple, each doll when dressed would personate a different character, for there was clothing for a baby doll, a schoolgirl, a young lady, a trained nurse, little Red Riding-Hood, and so on.

The workshop faced north and east, and was on the opposite side of the stairs. This was of the same shape as the playroom, but a small wood-stove, that could be used for heating glue-pots, and to keep the room from freezing in winter, took the place of the cooking-stove, and there was a long workbench, with vise, lathe, and mitre-box attachment under two of the windows where the best light fell. Across one side of the room, various tools were hung in racks, while at the end opposite the windows was tacked a great sheet of paper upon which many styles of bird homes were pictured. Below this was a space painted black like a school blackboard, and upon this Jacob had redrawn in rough chalk several of the pictures to a working-scale.

Gray Lady and Goldilocks were already upstairs when the party arrived, for though Goldilocks could walk very nicely when on a level, going up and down stairs was a matter that took time.

BIRD-HOUSES AND NESTING-BOXES. Fig. 1. hollow-limb nesting-box; Fig. 2, birch-bark bird-house; Fig. 3, slab bird-box; Fig. 4, cat-proof box; Fig. 5, old-shingle box; Fig. 6, chestnut-bark nesting-box; Figs. 7 and 9, boxes with slide fronts; Fig. 8, house for Tree Swallow.

From Useful Birds and their Protection by G. H. Forbush.

Tramp, tramp, came the feet up the stairs to the second hall, with the rhythm of a marching regiment. Then there was a pause and evidently some discussion, for, as Gray Lady went forward and opened the door at the head of the attic stairs, she heard Sarah Barnes’ voice say, “Why, it’s a big Crow and a little one; but how did they come in here? Don’t touch him, Tommy, he’ll bite you. Crows bite like everything when they get mad.”

Then Tommy’s voice said, “The big one’s a Crow, sure enough, but the little one couldn’t be any more’n mice’s little rats. It’s one of those queer new birds that had nests down in the Methodist Church steeple last spring; I went up with Eb Holcomb one day when he was fixing the bell-rope and I saw them, but nobody ’round here knows what they’re called—unless Gray Lady may.”

Looking down, Gray Lady saw the odd pair in question and said to Goldilocks, “Your two pets have managed to get in and are trapped between the top and bottom of the stairs. Whistle for them, dearie, for the children are waiting to come up.”

Goldilocks gave two very good imitations of the quavering call of a Crow, and then, using a little oddly shaped silver whistle that hung about her neck on a ribbon, gave a series of melodious whistles, when, to the surprise and delight of the children below, Crow and Starling (for this was the name of the smaller bird) immediately turned about and went upstairs, the Crow hopping and flopping, for one of its wings was deformed, and the Starling, as soon as it had room enough for a start, flying straight and true. When the children followed, they found the Crow perched on the back of Goldilocks’ chair and the Starling flitting about the open rafters until he found a perch that suited him upon a hook that had once held a hammock, where he seemed quite at home. The Crow, however, was anxious and uneasy when he saw the children trooping up, and flopping from the chair-bar with a sidewise motion, he scuttled across to the stove, under which he disappeared, occasionally peering out with his head on one side like a very inquisitive human being.

“I don’t wonder that you look astonished,” said Gray Lady, “at seeing birds in this house that are apparently captive, but the truth is that they will not go away, and come back through every open window. So, as we have not the heart to drive them away, we let them live here in the playroom and about the barns, where they find plenty to eat, and at any moment they wish to go, freedom is close at hand for the taking.”

“But what made them come to begin with?” asked Dave. “Crows are mostly the scariest things going.”

“Jacob found the Crow up in the cedar woods in May,” said Goldilocks. “All the others were able to fly and take care of themselves, but this one stayed in the low bushes and its parents were feeding it. One morning, when Jacob was up there cutting cedar posts for the gate he made to Birdland, he heard a great commotion; the old Crows and the young ones were cawing and screaming and flying about in distress, while crouching in the bushes, and just ready to spring upon the Crow, was a big half-wild cat. It used to belong to the people up at the lumber camp, but when they went away they left it, and all last winter and spring it has lived by hunting.”

“I know about that cat,” said Tommy. “The Selectmen have offered five dollars’ reward for it, and it kills more chickens, even big roosters, than all the Hawks this side of Bald Hill.”

“After Jacob had driven the cat away,” continued Goldilocks, “he picked up the young Crow to try to find out why it had not flown away like its brothers. At first it was afraid and fought and pecked his fingers, but by and by it let him handle it, and he found that one wing was twisted, so that it was of no use. The point where the long quill feathers grow was turned under, Jake said, just the way it is in a roast chicken, and it must have happened when the bird was little and had no feathers, because those on that point of the wing were stunted and twisted where they had tried to grow after it was hurt. Jake straightened the wing as well as he could, and clipped the feathers on the other one so that he shouldn’t be so lopsided. The wing is stiff and doesn’t work rightly yet, but Jake thinks that after next summer’s moult the feathers may come in better; meanwhile I’ve called him Jim, because that is the usual name for tame crows.

“Jim likes to live about here and he does such a lot of funny things. Why, the other day, out in the arbour, he dropped the little afternoon-tea sugar-tongs into the cream jug and took all the lumps of sugar in the bowl and hid them in the empty robin’s nest overhead, and we should never have dreamed that he had done it if Anne hadn’t come in with fresh cakes and startled him so that he dropped the last lump. He moves very quickly, for he can fly a little and he uses his wings and beak to help him climb, something like a parrot. Jacob has put him over in the woods by the Crow’s roost, time and time again, but he always comes hopping back.”

Sarah Barnes was going to ask what else the Crow had done, when the Starling flew across the room and out through one of the windows that was opened from the top.

“He’s gone!” she cried; “I’m dreadfully sorry, ’cause I wanted to look at him so’s I’d know Starlings if I see them again. Please, how did you get him? His wings seem very strong, and he flew as straight as anything.”