98 OUR FEATHERED FRIENDS. 
in our hands, and it lay on its back with its eyes shut, 
as if it were indeed dead. Then we carried it to the 
garden, feeling very sorry. Suddenly one black eye 
opened, and then the other, when, in a flash, the little 
bird was off. 
One day in spring a certain professor whom we know, 
who is very fond of hunting toadstools, caught sight of 
what he felt sure was a rare one on the limb of a live- 
oak tree. The heart of the professor beat with joy, for 
he would rather find a new kind of toadstool or lichen 
than a gold mine, and he put out his hand to pick this 
new one oft. It moved, and he looked at it. It wasa 
baby hummer, just fledged, and very delicate. It did 
not know enough to be afraid of him, and cuddled in 
his hand as if it were the nest. 
He knew how much we lke birds, and so the pro- 
fessor put the baby in his pocket basket and brought it 
home to us. The bird was unhurt and as free from 
fear as areal baby. Its face looked like a baby face, 
as the faces of all young birds look, innocent and sweet, 
and full of a helpless, not frightened, expression. You 
can look at the pictures and see that this is true. 
To feed this bird, which seemed hungry, we mixed 
some sugar and water. It would not open its bill, so 
we held the sweet in a spoon and dipped the beak into 
it. It tasted, and then put out its tongue and lapped 
some. This very slender, thread-like tongue was long 
and black and very quick of movement. 
Every hour we fed it with this sweetened water, and 
