390 Bird -Lore 



would immediately show them our Blue Jay. We would hold the lamp up to the 

 cage so that they might get a good look at him. Blue Jay would scream loud 

 and long, as if to say, "Take away that lamp. Can't you see I want to sleep? 

 That light dazzles my eyes !" Anyone who put his finger into the cage at such a 

 moment was in danger at once of having a piece taken out of it. 



Our Blue Jay also loved to splash in a dish of water and it was amusing to 

 see him. He was like a child paddling in the water, and he enjoyed it much. 

 In many other little things he was so clever that we loved him as much as it is 

 possible to love a dumb friend. He was so gay, so stubborn, and so lovable 

 that he was almost human. He was dumb, yes; but he seemed to understand 

 all we said to him. He made himself understood, too. It was not a language of 

 words, but of understanding. Yet some people think our dumb friends have no 

 brain power. If that is so, what made Blue Jay show such intelligence? — 

 (Miss) Mary Camara, Hudson, Mass. 



[Miss Camara, like Mrs. Le Perrier with her pet Robin, shows what pleasure can be 

 derived from a pet that is given its liberty. All of the members of the Crow family make 

 interesting pets because of their apparent intelligence and because they are easily cared 

 for. Miss Camara's attitude toward the laws for the protection of birds is highly com- 

 mendable. — A. A. A.] 



A PET ROBIN 



I was staying on a farm in Rockland County, New York, enjoying outdoor 

 life, feeding chickens, and taking an interest in my surroundings. 



July lo, while walking, I heard the plaintive cry of a little bird, which I 

 discovered on the grass at my feet. I picked up the poor little thing which had 

 fallen from its nest. It was so tiny, all head and a big mouth, and absolutely 

 without feathers, so I could not guess the kind of bird it was. 



I decided to try to rear it. I carried it to my room and made a nest in a 

 little box which I placed on a large and deep window-sill that faced 

 south. 



I fed my bird sparingly with little bits of cooked oatmeal and angleworms 

 every half hour. After a few days, feathers began to appear and the bird left 

 his nest, desiring a perch. It being a wild bird, I did not put him in a cage, as 

 I intended to give him his freedom when he was old enough to feed himself. 

 Placing a straight-backed chair on the window-sill, the little bird was satis- 

 fied with the rungs under the seat for perches, and a large box of fine gravel 

 completed arrangements for his comfort. 



It was most interesting to watch his development, for his feathers grew 

 rapidly, and, after two weeks, I discovered that he was a Robin. Soon he began 

 to use his wings, flying around the room, but always returning to the window- 

 sill. 



'Pretty,' as I named him, was absolutely without fear, knew me so well he 

 sat on my finger, and sometimes, while I was reading, would take a nap in the 



