began his monotonous strain. I paid no attention to him at
first, I was so taken up with my own disagreeable thoughts, till it came
to me all at once that he was not telling me it was a pleasant day,
though the sun was shining gloriously and a lovely breeze rustled the
green leaves. What was it the little bird was saying over and over
again, as plain as plain could be? 'NAUGHTY GIRL! NAUGHTY GIRL! NAUGHTY
GIRL! Y-E-S.'

"I rubbed my eyes and pinched my arm, to make sure I was awake; for I
thought I must have dreamed it. But no, there it was again, sweet, sad,
reproachful: 'NAUGHTY GIRL! NAUGHTY GIRL! NAUGHTY GIRL! Y-E-S,'

"I jumped up in a rage, and called it a horrid thing; and when it
wouldn't stop, but kept on reproaching me with my evil behavior, I could
bear it no longer, but put my fingers in my ears and ran back to the
house and up to my own room, where I cried with anger and shame. But
solitude and reflection soon brought me to a better state of mind; and,
long before the day was over, I had confessed my fault and was forgiven.
But though I wanted very much to see a new water-wheel Charlie set up
that afternoon in the brook, I dared not go through the wood to get to
it, lest that small bird should still be calling, 'Naughty girl! Y-e-s.'

"Charlie grumbled the next morning when I wakened him out of a sound
sleep by shouting gayly from my little bed in the next room that his
weather-bird was calling, 'Pleasant day!' 'Why, what _should_ he call,'
he wanted to know, 'with the sun shining in at both windows?'

"I never told my brother how the bird had given voice to my accusing
conscience, nor has the lesson ever been repeated; for from that day to
this the Warbling Verio has made no more personal remarks to me."

"There's a bird down in Maine" said Ann Eliza Jones, "they call the
Yankee bird, 'cause he keeps saying, 'All day
whittling--whittling--whittling.'"

"Yes; and the quails there always tell the farmers when they must hurry
and get in their hay," said her sister. "When it's going to rain they
sing out: 'More wet! more wet!' and 'No more wet!' when it clears off."

"Aunt Ruth," said Mollie, "please tell us about the funny little bantam
rooster who used to call to his wife every morning: 'Do--come
out--n-o-w!'"

"Very well; but we are getting so much interested in this bird-talk that
we are making rather slow progress with our work. Suppose we all see how
much we can accomplish in the next ten minute