WRECKED HOMES.

Auckland Star, Volume LXI, Issue 237, 7 October 1930, Page 6

WRECKED HOMES.

—* No, this is not an exciting tale of drink and gambling; it i<s quite a mild little bit about how the birds suffered during the recent wild weather. In the morning when I looked out I saw that there was much excitement, many lamentations over wrecked bird homes, and broken eggs beneath a huge cypress-.tree. Xo little, naked dead birds yet, still, it wan enough to break any bird heart, to find that in one night all their weary days of ibuikling had come to naught. Just think of the countless journeys, often against a strong head wind, with not much more than a twig, a few cotton threads, <a feather or a scrap of wool at a time, and to see it now a sodden mass on the wet grass. The hubbub was intense, for a time; then the sun gained in strength, dried the broken nests, and 10, those wonderful home .makers began all over again with greater energy than ever. Feverishly they tore at the dryest bits and bore them aloft —who knows but to the very same site of disaster. Could any human builder rise from the ashes of his home so noon and with such courage Mostly the birds were sparrows, and one always feels rather impatient with them —they never will see to their foundation stones properly. But there was one 'beautiful egg —a heavenly blue with black spots —a thrush's of course, and no one wept over it, no one claimed it, so I had it. It was "slightly 'bent," as the little girl said when sin; dropped a plate, but I have it hero 011 my desk —an emblem of perseverance, which same I badlv need just now. —G. EDITH BURTON.