110 OUR FEATHERED FRIENDS. 
cuage. Now he would scold them and peck at them 
and scare them, until we were obliged to cover a part 
of the cage. 
In a year or two the male robin got out of the cage 
and flew away. We could hear him far out of sight in 
the trees, but he would not come back, though we 
called to him in our kindest tones. He was out all 
night, and we supposed he was dead, as he was at the 
mercy of the mocking-birds. 
What was our surprise early in the morning to find 
him on the hitching-post near the house, with his bill 
wide open, screaming for his breakfast. But he would 
not let us put our hands on him. 
Then we thought of a plan to catch him, the same 
by which wild animals are sometimes caught. We 
scattered some crumbs from the post where he sat to 
the door of the cage, and Robin went to picking them 
up, of course, being very hungry and not thinking 
about the consequences. He followed the trail of the 
crumbs until, before he knew it, he was safe within 
the cage and the door was shut. 
Once again he got away from us, but we knew he 
would come back at meal-time, if the shrikes and the 
mockers did not find him. Birds which have lived for 
a while in a cage seem to be perfectly helpless when 
out at liberty, not knowing how to find food for them- 
selves, and dying of hunger in the midst of plenty. 
Sure enough, at supper time Robin came back, clam- 
oring for his share. There was a soft, moist place in 
