Snow-white in the sun, with great wings
beating and soaring, in hundreds and
hundreds, they rose and circled and came on.
"The gulls! the gulls!" was the cry.
"What does it mean?"
The gulls flew overhead, with a shrill
chorus of whimpering cries, and then, in
a marvelous white cloud of spread wings
and hovering breasts, they settled down
over the seeded ground.
"Oh! woe! woe!" cried the people.
"The gulls are eating what the crickets
have left! they will strip root and branch!"
But all at once, some one called out,--
"No, no! See! they are eating the
crickets! They are eating only the crickets!"
It was true. The gulls devoured the
crickets in dozens, in hundreds, in swarms.
They ate until they were gorged, and then
they flew heavily back to the lake, only to
come again with new appetite. And when
at last they finished, they had stripped the
fields of the cricket army; and the people
were saved.
To this day, in the beautiful city of Salt
Lake, which grew out of that pioneer village,
the little children are taught to love
the sea gulls. And when they learn drawing
and weaving in the schools, their first
design is often a picture of a cricket and a
gull.
THE NIGHTINGALE[1]
[1] Adapted from Hans Christian Andersen.
A long, long time ago, as long ago as when
there were fairies, there lived an emperor
in China, who had a most beautiful palace,
all made of crystal.
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