8o 



Bird- Lore 



IN THE HAND JULY 23, 1914 



better picture. I had fed them for several days, a drop of syrup (sugar and 

 water), which they took as freely as they did food from their mother, opening 

 their bills each time. I gently put my finger under the stronger one, when he im- 

 mediately snuggled 

 in the warm hand, 

 and I carried the 

 tiny baby in front 

 of the camera and 

 snapped his picture. 

 When I placed him 

 back, he was just 

 beginning to tremble 

 — such a baby, I 

 thought ! Then 

 imagine my surprise 

 on the morning of the 

 26th to find this bold 

 little fellow sitting 

 on a bare twig half- 

 way to the top of the larger spruce, more than twenty feet away from the nest, 

 and his little sister all alone below. I immediately photographed her, forcing 

 her to sit on the edge of the nest, which she did not want to do. She seemed 

 rather afraid, but in a moment I put her back in the nest, and all was well 

 until the next morning, when, I suppose, she tried to follow the brother. At 

 an early hour she was in the nest, but at about nine o'clock she was gone. 



The mother was very faithful ; in fact, I discovered where the mites were by 

 seeing her feeding them, when my mind was set at rest about their safety. 



I was amazed 

 at their quick in- 

 telligence, and at 

 no time more so 

 than when, on 

 coming only the 

 second time with 

 syrup, I found 

 their heads far 

 above the nest, 

 their necks 

 stretched an inch 

 or more. I could 

 not believe it pos- 

 sible that it was 

 for me until I saw in the nest july 



