Tales of the birdsFowler, W. Warde (William Warde)
General
Tales of the birds
Fowler, W. Warde (William Warde)
Birds; Birds -- Juvenile literature
“What rubbish people can talk! The motion itself is absurd, the
Blackbird’s speech was silly, and the Robin’s speech shows that his
whole race, from the beginning, have, as I always said, been the victims
of a delusion. You none of you know the least bit how to deal with man.
We Sparrows found out the secret ages ago, and look how we have
prospered! Talk of treaties! why in the name of all that’s feathered
should any one want to make a treaty with man? I say it’s ridiculous.
That isn’t the way to do it. Only idiots would do that.”
“Order, order!” said the President. “I really must call on the
honourable speaker to control his feelings and modify his expressions.”
“Very well,” said the Sparrow; “but really when one hears such
blathering nonsense talked--”
“Order, order!” called the President, and whistled his loudest. “The
honourable Sparrow must positively address himself to the point, and not
be rude, or I shall call on him to retire.” Thus admonished, the Sparrow
continued in milder tones:--
“Well really, you know, what I was going to say was, when the President
interrupted me, that man is here to be made use of, not to be made
treaties with. We found out long ago how to make use of him, just as we
found out long ago how to use the martins’ nests. (Loud cries of
‘shame.’) Shame, indeed! Rubbish! If you want to prosper, take what you
can get, and don’t go to make treaties about it, or fight for it more
than you can help; lay your claws into it when no one’s looking, and
make sure of it. You’ll be the better, and no one else the wiser. Man
sows corn: we take it; thousands of us live on it nearly all the year
round. Man sows peas: we take them--at least all the juicy young
ones--he can have the old ones for himself. Man plants crocuses: we
found out that there was good food inside the blossoms, and we take
them. Man puts bread-crumbs outside his window, in fulfilment of his
treaty with the robins, no doubt: we take it nearly all. Man does no end
of other things, and we take advantage of them all. And see how it pays!
We sparrows are the rising race. We increase every year by thousands; we
go everywhere; we despise nothing; we eat anything; and we have a good
time of it. All you other birds will disappear in time; there’ll be no
room for you, and nothing left for you to eat. Man will remain, but only
to support us; we must have peas and corn, so man must remain. And may
he ever remain,” added the orator, in a burst of eloquence, “the
infatuated slave that he is now!”
“Bravo!” said the twittering voice of the Swallow, who had returned
again, attracted by the Sparrow’s loud tones. “Capital! and how pleasing
to think that there’s one animal in the world who’s a greater blockhead
than a Sparrow!”
“Now then, Philip,” said the Blue Tit, “here’s your chance; where’s that
repartee?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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