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MASTER SPARROW'S BREAKFAST

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"oh, my! what a snowstorm!" little dorothy looked out of the window at the fast falling flakes, which covered up so quietly and softly the shivering brown grass on the lawn and the trembling rose bushes in the garden. "how warm they'll be," said dorothy to herself, "with their eiderdown covers."

just then a little sparrow flew down on the walk and looked up at the window. "hello!" said dorothy, "what do you want?" the little bird turned his head first to one side and then the other, as if he didn't quite hear what dorothy was saying behind the pane of glass. "don't you hear me?" she called out, but he turned his head, as if to say, "no!" dorothy pushed up the window and called out, "what do you want, birdie?" but he flew away just across the walk to the maple tree, where he sat looking at her with his queer little eyes. every now and then he would turn his head this way and that way, as if, so dorothy thought, trying to hear what she was saying. but dorothy wasn't saying anything now. she was so disappointed that her little friend had flown off and that he should be afraid of her, just because she had opened the window, that she turned to mother, who came into the room at that moment, and said: "mother, just look at that cute little bird; only just a minute ago he was hopping on the walk right down here, but when i opened the window to say 'how-de-doo!' he flew over to the maple tree. see him over there?"

"i think he is waiting for you to give him some crumbs for breakfast," mother answered with a smile. "run into the dining-room and ask mary for a piece of bread and we will see if master sparrow won't come back again."

"oh, goody!" cried the little girl, and in a few minutes she was back at the window with enough crumbs for an army of sparrows.

"open the window gently," said mother, "and throw out the crumbs, and we will see what master sparrow will do."

mr. sparrow did exactly what mother thought, and dorothy hoped he would do. he looked at them with his little bright eyes and turned his head first this way and then that way, and after that, to dorothy's delight, flew over to the crumbs and ate them up as if he had a great, big, healthy appetite. and when all the crumbs were gone he turned his head this way and that way (and i think he winked one of his little black eyes at dorothy, only i'm not quite sure about this) and flew away.

"oh, mother!" cried dorothy, "i think that's his way of talking—wagging his little head—something like the way bijou wags his stubby tail!" and mother said she thought so, too.

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