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It is a rainy day in today's story and the birds are enjoying it. They can't wait to look for worms.

Silver tip and his little boy are also out and the little boy helps the birds to stay safe.

A rainy day on the lawn.

When the sun rose that morning late in April, he tried and tried to look at the big house and see what was happening.

All he could see was a thick grey cloud veil stretched between him and the earth.

And shine as hard as he might, not a single sun beam went through that veil.

When the black birds awakened, they found a drizzling rain falling and hurried on their water proofs to get ready for a wet time.

Black birds are always handsome, yet they never look better than when it rains.

They coat their feathers with oil from the pockets under their tails as indeed all birds do.

And then they fly to the high branches of some tall and swaying trees and talk and talk and talk and talk.

They do not get into little groups and face each other, but scatter themselves around and face the wind.

This is most sensible, or if one of them were to turn his back to the wind, it would rumble up his feathers and give the raindrop a chance to get down to his skin.

When they speak, or at least when they have anything really important to say, they ruffle their own feathers and stand on tiptoe.

But they ruffle them carefully and face the wind all the time.

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