FEATHERED PHILOSOPHERS I03 



What becomes of the father birds, 

 with their wonderful ruby gorgets, after 

 the young are reared? All through 

 July and August the birds have lived 

 in the garden and swarmed in flocks 

 about the sweet peas, carnations, and 

 Japanese lilies, but I have never seen 

 a ruby throat among them since the 

 nesting time. In middle July, when I 

 was training a vine to the arbour, a flock 

 of humming-birds flew so close that 

 I could have touched them with my 

 hand. Contrary to their restless habits, 

 they frequently perched on the trellis, 

 and with a swift circular motion of the 

 tongue licked the aphis from the curled 

 edges of the leaves. They were newly 

 fledged young wearing the female col- 

 ours, as many birds do in their baby- 

 hood, but differing from their mothers 

 in their lack of endurance, in a soft 

 and infantile roundness, and in a total 



