The little children of the
town were hoping each day to see their friends again, and a strange
stillness and loneliness seemed to fill the little town, for the music
in the air had ceased.
The summer came, and never before had it been so hot. The little insects
and worms which the little birds had always driven away covered every
tree and bush, eating the leaves until nothing was left but the bare
twigs. The streets were hot and shadeless. In the orchard the fruit
dropped, scorched and dried by the sun. When the grains were gathered
one-half of the crop had been destroyed by the insects. Now the old
farmers said among themselves:
"We have made a great mistake. We need the birds."
One day in the early spring a strange sight was seen in the little town
of Killingworth. A great wagon covered with green branches was driven
down the main street, and among the branches were huge cages, and the
cages were filled with birds. Oh! they were all there--the robin, the
bluebird, the lark and the oriole--birds of every color and kind.
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