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WHAT THE CAT SAID TO THE MONKEY.

THE STARLING AND THE SPARROWS.

The starling is a trim little bird, measuring from seven to eight inches in length. He goes dressed in black, and his coat glistens like satin in the sunlight. In autumn, however, after moulting, he looks as if bedecked with white pearls.

This is his travelling-suit, and in it he prepares to take his flight southward to a warmer region. He is a European bird; and so he goes from Germany as far south as Spain, Italy, and Greece. Now and then he ventures as far as Africa.

But, as soon as spring begins to appear, the starling is sure to come back northward to his old haunts. He comes with merry songs and chatterings, and seems determined that no one shall be sad while he is about.

Flying to the topmost bough of some tree in the neighborhood of his old home, he proclaims to all the world that the Good Fellow (as the Germans call him) has come back, and that all the people may be glad accordingly.

After this, his first business will be to see how it stands with his summer lodgings; for he wants to be spared the trouble of finding a new mansion if he can help it. Somewhere about, there is, perhaps, a starling's tub or bucket, that some friends of his have placed on a tree for his accommodation, in their garden or yard, after making a hole or door by which he may enter.

But, dear me! what is his indignation, when he finds that a family of saucy sparrows, going upon the old maxim of "might makes right," have taken up their abode in his house, without so much as saying, "By your leave"!

"Quit this!" cries the starling in tones that cannot be mistaken.

"Go away, you black rogue!" cries the sparrow. "I shall not quit this nice house for you."

But the starling has a sharp bill, and he hits the poor sparrow with it. Sparrow calls him all the hard names he can think of, and summons the whole sparrow community to his assistance against the mean fellow who has come to deprive him of his home.

The cries grow louder and wilder. Such an uproar of sparrows as there is before the door! At last comes Madam Starling flying to the rescue; and then the battle is quickly decided. The sparrows are driven off, and the starlings remain in full possession.

Madam Starling looks about with her clear, bright little eyes, and sees that the troublesome sparrows have all gone away; and her faithful mate lights on the topmost bough of a tree near by, and pours forth a song of rejoicing and of triumph.

But soon the wind blows cold from the north. Ah! old Winter comes back a moment or two just to see what Spring is about. The flakes descend on their black coats; and the starlings come out from their little house, and look about to see what's the matter.

Have they made a mistake? Oh, no! Soon the sun will be out. April has come, and the snow will not last long. They first go to work, and clean their little house, pitching out all the rubbish the sparrows have left there.

Straw, feathers, and hay must now be got for a nice fresh nest. This they soon make; and one day Madam Starling shows her mate five or six clear blue eggs in the nest. For nearly sixteen days she must sit brooding on these eggs; and then—what joy!—half a dozen bright little starlings make their appearance.

But, dear me, how hungry they are! Father and mother have just as much as they can do to feed them. The little ones seem to be crying all the time for "more, more!" Will they never get enough?

In a few weeks the children grow so strong and sleek, that Papa Starling says to them, "Now, boys and girls, you must learn to fly, and get your own living. Come, tumble out!"

So the young ones have to venture out; and soon they find they can pick up worms and seeds enough for themselves. What joy to fly from tree to tree! How pleasant to light among the green stalks and the flowers on the warm summer days! The starlings have a merry time of it; and, when winter comes, all they have to do is to fly southward.

No sooner are they gone than the sparrows again take possession of the forsaken house, in great delight at having