Then Sam took the bags, and the fat and crumbs of bread he scattered
all over the top of the board. All around the edge of the board he
drove in smaller nails, and to these he tied the pieces of fat, there
to dangle on their strings.
Dot clapped her hands.
"It's our bird table!" she explained to Norah. "Where's Mother? I'm
going to tell her."
Mother Blossom came and admired the bird-table, and the grocery boy,
when he came with the packages, noticed it right away.
"Annabel Lee can't get up there, can she?" he grinned. "Looks like
you'd have plenty of company, Dot."
Indeed, the few sparrows that came first must have told the other
birds, for in less than an hour there was a throng of feathered
creatures eating at the twins' table. Chippies and snowbirds came as
well as the sparrows.
"I only wish we had built one before," said Aunt Polly, watching the
hungry little crowd eat. "I've thrown out bread crumbs every morning,
but half the time they were buried in the snow. We can keep this swept
off and always filled with food."
Dot spent the rest of the morning watching the birds, and how she did
laugh at those who picked at the fat hanging on the strings. They flew
at it so fiercely it seemed as though they thought it was alive and
they must kill it.
"What's that out in the yard?" asked Bobby the first thing when he came
home from school at noon.
"That's our bird table," Twaddles informed him.
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