NOT DARING TO LAUGH. 215 



When, on the approach of spring, some of his 

 I'oom-mates grew belligerent, and there arose 

 occasional jarring between them, my bird showed 

 his dislike of contention and coarse ways by 

 declining to come out of his cage at all. Al- 

 though the door stood open all day, and he was 

 kept busy driving away visitors, he insisted on 

 remaining a hermit till the restless birds were 

 liberated, when he instantly resumed his usual 

 habits, and came out as before. His sensitive- 

 ness was exhibited in another way, — mortifi- 

 cation if an accident befell him. For exam- 

 ple, when, by loss of feathers in moulting, he 

 was unable to fly well, and fell to the floor in- 

 stead of reaching the perch he aimed at, he 

 stood as if stunned, motionless where he hap- 

 pened to drop, as if life were no longer worth 

 living. Once he fell in this way upon a table 

 beside a newspaper. As he landed, his feet 

 slid on the polished surface, and he slipped 

 partly under the loose paper, so that only his 

 head appeared above it. There he stood for 

 five minutes looking at me, and bearing a droll 

 resemblance to a bird's head on a newspaper. 

 He was not more than four feet from me, and 

 was obviously deeply chagrined, and in doubt 

 whether he would better ever try to recover him- 

 self ; and I positively did not dare to laugh, lest 

 I hurt him more. 



