"And
you're going to give a Christmas party," chirped the Robin. "And you
want us all to come!" said Downy Woodpecker. "Hurrah! Three cheers for
Mrs. Chickadee!"
"Hush!" said Mrs. Chickadee, "and I'll tell you all about it. To-morrow
IS Christmas Day, but I don't want to give a party."
"Chee, chee, chee!" cried Robin Rusty-breast; "chee, chee, chee!"
"Just listen to my little plan," said Mrs. Chickadee, "for, indeed, I
want you all to help. How many remember Thistle Goldfinch--the happy
little fellow who floated over the meadows through the summer and fall?"
"Cheerup, chee-chee, cheerup, chee-chee, I do," sang the Robin; "how he
loved to sway on thistletops!"
"Yes," said Downy Woodpecker, "and didn't he sing? All about blue
skies, and sunshine and happy days, with his
'Swee-e-et-sweet-sweet-sweet-a-twitter-witter-witter-witter-wee-twea!'"
"Ter-ra-lee, ter-ra-lee," said Snow Bunting. "We've all heard of
Thistle Goldfinch, but what can he have to do with your Christmas
party? He's away down South now, and wouldn't care if you gave a dozen
parties."
"Oh, but he isn't; he's right in these very woods!"
"Why, you don't mean--"
"Indeed I do mean it, every single word. Yesterday I was flitting about
among the trees, peeking at a dead branch here, and a bit of moss
there, and before I knew it I found myself away over at the other side
of the woods! 'Chickadee-dee-dee, chickadee-dee-dee!' I sang, as I
turned my bill toward home.
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