104 OUR FEATHERED FRIENDS. 
as much as to say, “Don’t be afraid, I have nursed 
babies before.” 
As the birdlings grew, the nest had to be enlarged, 
and it took every minute of the mother’s time to keep 
the household matters in order. In a few days down 
began to appear upon the birds, and then a shimmering 
green on the backs, lke that of the mother’s dress. 
Young male hummers do not get the bright head and 
throat until the first moult. When the birds were thus 
clothed, the mother did not seem to think it necessary 
to build the nest up about them any higher, so the 
birds were crowded out gradually as they grew, until 
they were obliged to sit on the edge, a pair of the 
sweetest twins one ever saw. 
A storm came down from the mountains and sur- 
prised the faithful little mother, but she sheltered the 
babies as best she could until we came to the rescue 
with a gingham apron, which we pinned in place above 
the nest, making a complete shelter for all. We kept 
this apron in place for a week, or until the storm was 
over. People passing by must have thought us very 
queer housekeepers to spread our washing in the front 
yard, but we did not stop to explain. 
By this time the bird had grown so trustful that we 
could do almost anything without scaring her. We 
fed the young with syrup on the ends of our fingers, 
while the mother looked on astonished. They would 
put out their fine thread-like tongues and look at us 
from their tiny black eyes, as if thanking us. Their 
