152 



Bird - Lore 



occupied by Red-shafted Flickers, but every summer "Mr. Flicker renth hith 

 houth to the thwallowth," as my little friend says. 



The baby was only a few days old, all down, pin feathers and mouth, and 

 too tiny to be afraid. The parents paid absolutely no attention to Violet Mari- 

 gold Green, as she was named, and for ten days a family of five grown people 

 and neighbors' children were kept busy swatting flies to feed her. A fly 

 campaign had just been waged in town, and flies were scarce. In despair 

 sometimes when flies gave out, I fed her tiny worms, grasshoppers, and some- 

 times tiny bits of raw beefsteak. The last she did not like, although the meat 



A TRYING SITUATION 



never seemed to hurt her. The way she grew and thrived was astonishing. In a 

 few days we could keep her in her box only by covering her. She would flutter 

 around over the floor after us, flutter up to our knees, and sit contentedly on 

 our hands. In a week she could fly several feet, and would turn her little 

 head to watch a fly or insect flying near, and if they were very near her mouth 

 would fly open and she would reach for them. 



When we had had her just a week, we placed her on the clothes-line one 

 afternoon, and one of the old birds came down and sat by her, the first 

 time the parents had taken any notice of her. We felt confident she would 

 be able to fly and feed herself when it was time for the Swallows to go south, 

 but to our great regret that time never came for her. After ten days she 

 could fly nearly across a room, while her brothers and sisters were still in the 

 nest. Then a neighbor's boy tossed her up, unknown to us at the time, 



