DEAR ONES:

Timaru Herald, Volume CXXXIX, Issue 20065, 23 March 1935, Page 13

DEAR ONES:

Our Page is full of birds to-day . . . ’Tis full of songsters blithe and gay; The farmyard fowl and duck are in it; The thrust, the robin, and the linnet, The fantail, and the bush wren shy, The lark, whose kingdom is the sky; The blackbird, with his beak of yellow; Canary, too, small golden fellow; The kingfisher, the bellbird sweet, The pigeon and the parakeet; The tui with his sombre coat. And white cravat tied at his throat; The stately swan, the sparrow grey, The owl who sleeps till close of day . . . All these bird folk, and many more Prom our green bush, from foreign shore. In picture, verse, and story gay, Have flown into our Page to-day. —Which are my favourites?—Have you guessed? —I like our native birds the best;

And so I grieve when people say They’re slowly vanishing away. Our land would be too sad for words, Without our friends, the native birds. Yes, it would be a dismal place Without their loveliness and grace; Without the magic of their song The shortest day would seem too long. They are such carefree, happy things; Oh, who could chain their eager wings? Who could their small homes overthrow And steal their eggs? Not you, I know. Yet let us all this promise make; A promise that we ne’er will break; A promise held in eight small words . . . To love and help our friends, the birds.