THE HUMMING BIRD. 1 53 



Our Humming Bird, the Ruby-throated, lives, as 

 you know, on the sweet nectar of flowers. Birds 

 often fly into the open windows in summer, and, if 

 caught, are easily tamed. They will live on sugar 

 and water, and many stories are told of their pretty 

 ways in captivity. The prettiest sight, however, must 

 have been to see them dart off happily again when 

 their captors released them. 



We have been taught how many plants need insects 

 to bring their pollen for some other plant to fertilize 

 their blossoms. The Humming Bird renders this 

 service. We are not sure he would do so simply for 

 the sweets the deep chalices contain, but he knows 

 that where honey is insects are sure to be, and he 

 inserts his long curved bill. 



I like sometimes, on a cool, clear night in Septem- 

 ber, to think of the little Humming Birds away up in 

 the darkness, their wings buzzing and their long bills 

 pointing straight for the West Indies. Twice a year 

 the little mites take a journey of thousands of miles in 

 the night times, coming back when our spring returns 

 and our flowers are again in bloom. 



All of us know the habit of the Humming Bird of 

 poising himself in the air and keeping up a quick 

 vibration of his wings, so that they can hardly be seen 

 as wings at all. 



Humming Birds are said to be little centers of pas- 



