A WIDOW AND TWINS. 127 
had been when the bills of the young were 
less fully developed. In my notes of this 
date I find the following description of it: 
‘“Number Two is still in the nest, but un- 
easy. At 10.25 the mother appeared and 
fed him.! Her beak was thrust into his 
mouth at right angles, —the change being 
necessitated, probably, by the greater length 
of his bill,—and he seemed to be jerking 
strenuously at it. Then he opened his beak 
and remained motionless, while the black 
mandibles of the mother could be seen run- 
ning down out of sight into his throat.” 
The other youngster, Number One, as I 
now called him, stayed in the tree, or at 
most ventured only into the next one, and 
was fed at varying intervals, —as often, 
apparently, as the busy mother could find 
anything to give him. Would he go back 
to his cradle for the night? It seemed not 
improbable, notwithstanding he had shown 
no sign of such an intention so long as day- 
light lasted. At 3.50 the next morning, 
1 For convenience, I use the masculine pronoun in 
speaking of both the young birds; but I knew nothing 
as to the sex of either of them, though I came finally to 
believe that one was a male and the other a female. 
