apapiu/simple_text_files · Datasets at Hugging Face

"The chipmunk stopped on a branch over his head. He sat there and chattered. Grandmother said he was laughing.

"She told me he was saying, 'You can't come up, Wag-wag. You can't come up. You don't know how to climb. I am safe!'"

"Perhaps he was saying that," said father. "Now here are the bones."

"Oh, I see," said Polly. "They have meat and fat on them. That is for the birds. They need not try to eat bones."

"Yes, and here is grass seed. Some birds would rather have that. And here is cracked corn, too. It is for the larger birds."

He put the grass seed into small baskets. He did the same with the corn.

"Now we are ready," he said. "You help me carry these things out. I will come back for the stepladder."

Soon father had tied the bones to the trees. He put them on the small branches. He tied them so that the birds could get at them easily. The birds could perch on the branches and peck at the meat.

He said, "I will not tie them to large branches. Some cat might walk out and catch our birds."

Then he fastened up the baskets. He fastened them tightly. They could not swing. The birds could perch upon the edge and eat the seeds and the corn.

"Now our party is ready," said father. "Do you suppose anything will come to it? We will keep food here the rest of the winter."

How Peter and Polly watched the food! It seemed as if the birds would never come. But at last they found it.

The very next morning Polly saw two birds eating there. She did not know what they were. She ran to tell mother.

"See our birds!" she cried. "We have two. What are they, oh, what are they?"

"You know them in the summer," said mother. "Then the father bird is yellow and black. You call them your canaries."

"But they have changed their clothes," said Polly. "They do not look the same. They are not so pretty."

"Many birds change their color," said mother. "Do you dress in the winter just as you do in the summer? How those birds like the seeds!"

"There, there!" cried Polly. "See that big bird. He is after the meat. I know him. He is a blue jay. Don't you frighten away my other birds, Mr. Blue Jay."

It was not long before many birds found the food. Day after day the chick-a-dees feasted. A few crows came. Once a flock of snowbirds stopped at the party. And there were many that Peter and Polly did not know.

One day Polly saw a bird that she liked very much. It was a robin. She was surprised and pleased.

"I did not know that robins were here in cold weather," she said to him. "I like you best of all. You make me think of spring. Peter likes winter best. But I like you and spring. Please come to see me every day."

And the robin did for nearly a month. Then he came no more. Perhaps he grew tired of waiting for spring. Perhaps he flew south to find it. Polly never knew.

The New Sled

"I am going to begin to make something to-day," said father. "The stove is lighted. The workshop is warm. Who will be my helper?"

"I will," said Polly.

"I will," said Peter.

"Very well. You may both help. Come to the shop and guess what we are to make."

The workshop was in Mr. Howe's barn. In it was a large workbench. Tools hung on the walls. A box of tools was near the bench.

On the other side of the shop there was a very low workbench. It had two drawers. In the drawers were tools.

There were two small hammers. There were two small saws. There were two small screw drivers. There were two pots of glue. There were nails, tacks, and screws.

The big bench and the big tools were for Mr. Howe. The little bench and the little tools were for Peter and Polly.

It was not hard to guess what was to be made. Father had laid the pieces of wood together. Any one could tell what they would make.

"It's a sled like your low one," said Polly. "I think it must be for Brownie. It is too small for a big horse."

"That is just what it is, Polly. Grandmother wished to give you a sleigh. But this will be better. If you tip over, you will not fall far.

"I am glad to have you learn to use Brownie in the winter, too. The snow will make a soft cushion, if you fall off your sled."

The parts of the sled had been made for father. He needed only to put them together. This did not take very long.

"Now," said father, "the carpenters have finished their work. We must draw our sled to the blacksmith's shop."

"What for?" asked Peter.

"For the iron runners, my boy. They will make your sled slip easily. The blacksmith has been making them. He says that he will fit them on to-morrow."

So the three took the sled to the blacksmith. On the way Polly rode a little. Then Peter rode a little. Father was the horse.

Once he played that he was running away. He tumbled Polly off into the soft snow. The children thought this great fun.

At the blacksmith's shop they saw the runners. These did not quite fit the wooden runners. Polly felt sorry about this.

But the blacksmith said, "Never you mind, Polly. I can heat them at the forge. That will make them soft. Then I can bend them as I wish.

"You ought to know about this. Haven't you seen me shoe horses? Haven't you seen me make the shoes fit?"

"Yes," said Polly. "But, you see, I forgot about that."

The next afternoon the sled came home. The blacksmith's boy drew it. The iron runners were on. They fitted well.

"Now," said father, "we have another job to begin to-morrow. We must paint the sled. What color shall it be?"

The children talked about it a long time.