Ezekiel iSS 



the honu', and his welfare and ha|)pincss l)CcanH' of primary im[)i)rtance lo 

 one and all. 



At first \vc could not decide to what particular bird family he belonged, 

 not being well versed in bird-lore. His predominating color, at that time, 

 of brown shading to buff, with black and white markings, told us little, Even 

 the quail-like white streaks over his eyes were unfamiliar. He was too large 

 for a Sparrow and too small for a Robin; different in some way from all the 

 birds more common to us. But the rose-pink under his wings, and the one 

 pink feather which soon appeared on his breast, enabled us to place him with 

 the Rose-breasted Grosbeaks, among the most delightful of our American 

 song-birds. 



It is doubtful if he would ever have decided that he could pick up his own 

 food, and it took us a full month to find that we must make the decision for 

 him. Indeed, he was fully fledged and singing before he assumed this responsi- 

 bility. Doubtless we were largely to blame for this tardiness, for it certainly 

 was a pleasure to pet him. In fact, he never outgrew his liking to be given 

 a drink of water, drop by drop, from the finger-tip. 



Like all children, he was easily spoiled. When about three months old, 

 we were away from home almost constantly during the afternoon and eve- 

 ning for about two weeks, which, of course, meant that Zeke must stay in 

 the cage during our absence. He evidently thought it but fair that we put 

 in the night entertaining his birdship, and soon found that by beating his wings 

 against the cage he would be taken out. I would keep still just as long as 

 I could, then go to him, each time feeling sure he must have caught wing or 

 foot in the wires, or at least worn off bunches of feathers, only to find him 

 unruffled and coaxing in his irresistible way. Eventually I would present a 

 finger, which was at once accepted; then, not having the heart to force him 

 oflf, I would lie down to sleep holding him perched on my hand. With a fluff 

 of his feathers, which certainly spoke contentment, he would tuck his head 

 under his wing and fall sound asleep; but needless to say I did not. 



I soon found, however, that he must be left alone, at the risk of break- 

 ing his neck. After spending a couple of nights listening to his flutter and 

 call, worrying first because he was noisy, then imagining he was dead because 

 he was quiet, and tiptoeing at intervals into the room, only to wake him from 

 sleep, I at last taught him to be quiet all night. It took a still longer time to 

 induce him to go to sleep at dusk, instead of at the family bedtime. 



Twilight was his only restless time; then he was always uneasy and lone- 

 some. We were much afraid, at first, it was because he was pining for the 

 outdoor life, but found later, by watching the wild Grosbeaks, that it seemed 

 a characteristic, as they always are the same at this time. He liked, at eve- 

 ning, to have someone sit close to the cage. Then he would cuddle down as 

 near the wires as he could, and, with the usual fluff of contentment, fall sound 

 asleep — not so sound, however, but that he was awake instantly if left alone. 



