THE BIRD DIALOGUE.
SPEAKERS.
[Mary,Caroline,Debbie, andDoraare the largest among the girls;MinnieandEvathe smallest.FredericandJoeare the largest boys:Johnnyis the smallest.]
Scene.—A schoolroom. Tables and chairs are placed around, upon which are books, slates, a globe, &c. Maps are hung upon the walls. A group of scholars assembled, waiting for school to begin.MaryandHittieare sitting together,Mary’sarm aroundHittie.Johnnystands whittling.Gussieis seated, with open book in hand, twirling a teetotum.Debbiestands with sack on, holding and occasionally swinging her hat by one string.Carolinesits with slate and arithmetic before her.Edithis seated with an open atlas.Fredericleans back a little in his chair, sharpening lead-pencils for the others, which he hands them at intervals.Dorais at work on tatting.Arthurstands, and is winding a ball, unravelling the yarn from an old stocking.Joesits at work on the hull of a little boat.Minnieis sitting on a low stool, with a bunch of flowers, which she is arranging in different ways.Evais also on a low stool, nearDoraandCaroline.These various occupations are introduced to avoid stiffness. They should not be kept up constantly, but left off and resumed occasionally, in an easy, careless way. Confused talking and noise heard behind the curtain. Curtain rises.
Mary(as if continuing a conversation). Now, I should rather be a robin. He sings so pretty a song! Everybody likes to hear a robin sing. I don’t believe even a boy would shoot a robin.
Johnny.Course he wouldn’t!
Minnie.Robin redbreasts covered up the two little childuns when they got lost in the woods.
Caroline.And they don’t do like other birds,—live here all summer and have a good time, and then fly off and leave us. They stay by.
Gussie.How do you know that?
Caroline(or any one that can sing). Oh! I’ve heard. They stay in swamps and barns, waiting for spring. Don’t you remember? (Sings.)
“The north-wind doth blow, and we shall have snow;And what will the robin do then, poor thing?He will sit in the barn, and keep himself warm,And hide his head under his wing, poor thing!”
“The north-wind doth blow, and we shall have snow;And what will the robin do then, poor thing?He will sit in the barn, and keep himself warm,And hide his head under his wing, poor thing!”
“The north-wind doth blow, and we shall have snow;And what will the robin do then, poor thing?He will sit in the barn, and keep himself warm,And hide his head under his wing, poor thing!”
“The north-wind doth blow, and we shall have snow;
And what will the robin do then, poor thing?
He will sit in the barn, and keep himself warm,
And hide his head under his wing, poor thing!”
(Others join in the song, one or two at a time; and, at the close, all are singing.)
Mary.Yes: he comes up close to our back-door and eats the crumbs, and perches on the apple-tree boughs. Mother says it seems as if he were one of the family.
Debbie.Now, I should a great deal rather be a swallow, and fly away. Then I could fly away down South where the oranges grow, and figs and sugar-cane, and see all the wonderful sights; and I’d go to the beautiful sunny islands away over the seas.
Johnny.You’d get tired, maybe, and drop down into the water.
Joe.No. He’d light on vessels’ topmasts: that’s the way they do.
Debbie.’Twould be a great deal better than living in a barn all winter.
Dora.Oh, this morning I saw the prettiest bird I ever saw in all my life! Oh, if he wasn’t a pretty bird! Father said ’twas a Baltimore oriole. Part of him was black, and part of him red as fire. Oh, he was a beauty! If ever I am a bird, I’ll be an oriole!
Arthur.Uncle Daniel calls him the fire hangbird.
Frederic.That’s because his nest hangs down from the bough like a bag.
Caroline.Don’t you know what that’s for? Where they first came from, ’way down in the torrid zone, they build their nests that way, so the monkeys and serpents can’t get their eggs.
Arthur.I’ve got a hangbird’s egg.
Edith.Do they have red eggs? (Boys smile.)
Fred.No: black-and-white. Father calls him the golden-robin.
Caroline.I’ll tell you what I’d be,—a mocking-bird.And I’ll tell you why: because a mocking-bird can sing every tune he hears. It does vex me so when I hear a pretty tune, and can’t sing it! Sometimes I remember one line, and then I can’t rest till I get the whole. Mother says I ought to have been born a mocking-bird.
Fred.Of course,Carolinewould want tocarol.
(Groans and “O Fred!” by the crowd.)
Caroline.Mother says he can whistle to the dog, and chirp like a chicken, or scream like a hawk, and can imitate any kind of a sound,—filing, or planing, or any thing.
Mary.And he can sing sweeter than a nightingale.
Arthur.I’d be a lark; for he goes up the highest.
Fred.He has a low enough place to start from.
Caroline.I know it,—’way down on the ground, ’mongst the grass.
Debbie.No matter what a low place he starts from, so long as he gets up high at last. Don’t you know Lincoln?
Joe.I know what I would be,—some kind of a water-fowl: then I could go to sea.
Johnny.You’d better be a coot.
Fred.Or one of Mother Carey’s chickens.
Joe.No. I’d be that great strong bird, I forget his name, that flies and flies over the great ocean, and never stops to rest, through storms and darkness right ahead.Hedoesn’t have to take in sail, or cut away the masts. I’d be an albatross!—Guss, what doyouthink about it?
Guss.Well, I think I’ll be an ostrich: then I can run and fly both together.
Arthur.And you wouldn’t be afraid to eat things.
Guss.That’s so! They swallow down leather, stones, old iron; and nothing ever hurts them.
Debbie.I heard of one swallowing a lady’s parasol.
Johnny.But they’d pull out your feathers.
Guss.No matter! The girls need them for their hats.
Johnny.I know what I’d be. I’d be an owl: then I could sit up nights.
Hittie.You’d be scared of the dark!
Johnny.’Twouldn’t be dark if I were an owl.
Mary.Can’t you play enough daytimes?
Johnny.Oh! daytime isn’t good for any thing. They have all the fun after we’ve gone to bed,—Iand Charlie.
Fred.’Twon’t do for little boys to hear every thing that goes on.
Guss.You little fellers are apt to make a noise, and disturb us.
Hittie.Mother says, if I weren’t a chatterbox, I could stay up later. I’ll choose to be a parrot; for parrots can talk just when they want to, and have blue wings, and green wings, and red and yellow, and all colors.
Edith.I should rather be a canary-bird, ’cause they have sponge-cake and sugar-lumps every day.
Hittie.Oh, I wouldn’t be a canary-bird, shut up in a cage!
Dora.I should rather live on dry sticks.
Minnie.My mamma’s got a canary-bird; and he sings, and he’s yellow.
Hittie.Parrots are the prettiest.
Mary.Whydoesn’tsomebody be a flamingo? He is flame-colored.
Arthur.I should think some of you girls would want to be a peacock.
Debbie.Now, what do you saygirlsfor? Boys think as much of their new clothes as girls do.
DoraandMary. Just as much!
Fred.I know who seems like a peacock,—Nannie Minns. I saw her stepping off the other day just as proud!—about seventeen flounces, and yellow kids, and yellow boots, and curls and streamers!—first looking at her dress, and then at her boots, and then at her gloves, and then at her curls,—this way. (Imitates Nannie Minns’s walking.)
Debbie.Well, if some girls are peacocks, so are some boys hawks. I saw that great Joshua Lowe come pouncing down among a flock of little boys yesterday, and do every thing he could think of to ’em, just to show he could master them.
Mary.And, if you want a crow-fighter, take Andy Barrows: he’s always picking a quarrel.
Dora.I know it. I’ve heard him. “Come on!” he says,—“come on: I’ll fight ye!”
Caroline.I think, as a general thing, girls behave better than boys. What do you think about it, little Minnie? You don’t say much.
Minnie(looking up from her flowers). I’d be a humming-bird.
Edith.She thinks you’re talking about birds.
Caroline.And what would you be a humming-bird for?
Minnie.’Cause they’re so pretty, and so cunning!
Hittie.So they are, Minnie.
Minnie.And they keep with the flowers all the time, and eat honey.
Arthur.They eat the little mites of insects as much as they do honey.
Edith.My brother found a humming-bird’s nest. Oh, the inside of it was just as soft as wool! and little bits of white eggs, just like little bits of white beans.
Dora(looking atEva,and taking her hand). Now, here’s a little girl sitting still all this time, and not saying a word.
Caroline.I know it. Isn’t she a dear little girl? (Stroking her hair.)
Mary.She ought to be a dove, she’s so gentle and still.
Debbie.You dear little pigeon-dove, what bird would you be?
Eva(looking up). Sparrow.
Mary.You would? And what would you be a sparrow for?
Eva.’Cause my mamma said not a sparrow falls to the ground.
(The girls look at each other.)
Debbie(softly). Isn’t she cunning?
MaryandDora(softly). I think she’s just as cunning as she can be.
Joe.Fred hasn’t said what he’d be yet.
Fred.Eagle. He’s the grandest of all. He can fly right in the face of the sun.
Johnny.Eagles can beat every other bird.
Joe.Of course, Fred wouldn’t be any thing short of an eagle.
Fred.No: nor any thing short of the American eagle.
All the Boys.Three cheers for the American eagle!
All together.Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah!
(Curtain falls. Or, if there be no curtain, a boy rushes in to tell them the organ-man is coming, and they all rush out.)