What a shabby house you have,” said Tortoise to Bird. “It’s made of sticks, it has no roof, and you had to build it yourself. Compared to my shell – which is my house – it’s rather pathetic.”
“It’s true,” said Bird, “that I built my nest myself, that the building materials are rather crude, and that it’s open to the elements. Yet I like it.”
“I suppose it’s no worse than any other nest,” said Tortoise. “Still, you must be rather jealous of my house.”
“To the contrary,” said Bird. “Unlike your shell, there’s room in my nest for family and friends. So I daresay that while you may have the better house, I have the better home.”
Moral: Better a crowded home than a lonely mansion.

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A great battle had begun. Cannon were booming, some far away, some near at hand. Soldiers were marching through the fields. Men on horseback were riding in haste toward the front.

“Whiz!” A cannon ball struck the ground quite near to a company of soldiers. But they marched straight onward. The drums were beating, the fifes were playing.

“Whiz!” Another cannon ball flew through the air and struck a tree near by. A brave general was riding across the field. One ball after another came whizzing near him.

“General, you are in danger here,” said an officer who was riding with him. “You had better fall back to a place of safety.”

But the general rode on.

Suddenly he stopped at the foot of a tree. “Halt!” he cried to the men who were with him. He leaped from his horse. He stooped and picked up a bird’s nest that had fallen upon the ground. In the nest were some tiny, half-fledged birds. Their mouths were open for the food they were expecting their mother to give them.

“I cannot think of leaving these little things here to be trampled upon,” said the general.

He lifted the nest gently and put it in a safe place in the forks of the tree.

“Whiz!” Another cannon ball.

He leaped into the saddle, and away he dashed with his officers close behind him.

“Whiz! whiz! whiz!”

He had done one good deed. He would do many more before the war was over. “Boom! boom! boom!”

The cannon were roaring, the balls were flying, the battle was raging. But amid all the turmoil and danger, the little birds chirped happily in the safe shelter where the great general, Robert E. Lee, had placed them.

this story found here

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I had a dog named, Numchucks, and I had trained him for bird hunting. In this, I had taught him to be soft mouthed, (that is where he does not bite down hard on the bird as to not penetrate the flesh) One day while sitting on the dock a baby martin bird fell from the rafters of the boat shed and was struggling in the river. I could not reach the baby bird so I sent Numchucks to retrieve this creature. He did and did well, he swam out and took the bird in its mouth and brought it to me. I took it and placed it back in the nest. Some creatures like Numchucks only come around once in a great while. I always felt he was the reincarnation of Lassie…. Art~

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a bird in hand is better than two in the bush

(~_~)

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