tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35799682597667493182012-01-20T07:08:21.224-08:00Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13875603488434952711noreply@blogger.comBlogger21100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3579968259766749318.post-80252756127275301952011-11-06T16:20:00.000-08:002011-11-08T07:54:21.859-08:00<div align="center">From</div><br /><div align="center">Wild Animals I Have Known</div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center">By Ernest Thompson Seton</div><br />Silverspot was named for a silver dot on the point of his beak. It was hard to spot which crow was Silverspot until I saw his little dot. I guess that spot is a sort of birthmark. Silverspot and his friends fly in one big group. These crows have several calls; All is well, come right along, be on your guard, danger, great danger-a gun, hawk-hawk, wheel around, attention, and good day.<br /><br />One day, I was walking out in the woods and I shook a pine tree. Two birds flew out and I saw a nest shake. I had always had a suspicion that some birds lived there in that nest. But not just any birds, Silverspot and his mate!<br /><br />Another time, I saw him cross the Don Valley with a white object in his beak. He set the object down on the shore of Beaver Elm. I went to look at the object (when Silverspot left) and saw that it was a china teacup handle! Silverspot had placed it among many white shells like a gem collection of his own! I never saw any explanation for this "gem collection" but to bring them to his mate.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3579968259766749318-8025275612727530195?l=godsfreegrace.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Little Lahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05382836093661797720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3579968259766749318.post-73532963434871825842011-11-05T05:58:00.000-07:002011-11-05T06:30:58.820-07:00<div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size: 130%;">The Rock-a-by Lady From Hushabye Street</span></strong><br /><br /><strong>By Eugene Field</strong></div><br /><div align="center">The Rock-a-By Lady from Hushaby street<br />Comes stealing; comes creeping;<br />The poppies they hang from her head to her feet,<br />And each hath a dream that is tiny and fleet<br />She bringeth her poppies to you, my sweet,<br />When she findeth you sleeping!<br /><br />There is one little dream of a beautiful drum<br />"Rub-a-dub!" it goeth;<br />There is one little dream of a big sugar-plum,<br />And lo! thick and fast the other dreams come<br />Of popguns that bang, and tin tops that hum,<br />And a trumpet that bloweth!<br /><br />And dollies peep out of those wee little dreams<br />With laughter and singing;<br />And boats go a-floating on silvery streams,<br />And the stars peek-a-boo with their own misty gleams,<br />And up, up, and up, where the Mother Moon beams,<br />The fairies go winging!<br /><br />Would you dream all these dreams that are tiny and fleet?<br />They'll come to you sleeping;<br />So shut the two eyes that are weary, my sweet,<br />For the Rock-a-By Lady from Hushaby street,<br />With poppies that hang from her head to her feet,<br />Comes stealing; comes creeping.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3579968259766749318-7353296343487182584?l=godsfreegrace.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Little Lahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05382836093661797720noreply@blogger.com0