"Do you remember that line, colonel?" and the professor softly whistled
a strain in imitation of a bird's note. "The services of our little
brothers of the air are exceedingly valuable to the horticulturist.
And think of the damage done to arboriculture by the woodborers alone
were it not for the help given by the birds. Did you ever notice those
borers at work, colonel? Some writer has well described them as
animated gimlets. They just stick their pointed heads into the bark
and turn their bodies around and around and out pours a little stream
of sawdust. The birds would pick off such pests fast enough if people
would only give them a chance and not scare them off with shotguns."
"Yes, the birds earn their way, there is no denying it, and he is a
very stupid farmer who begrudges them the little corn and wheat they
take from the fields. The account is more than balanced by the good
they do." Then the conversation ceased, for the colonel and his friend
moved off to inspect the quince bushes.
Pleased by the praises they had bestowed on us for our efforts in
cleaning the fruit trees and cornfields of injurious insects, I went to
work with new vigor to get out some bugs for my luncheon, and was thus
pleasantly employed when a sharp twitter from my mother attracted my
attention.
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