1388 OUR FEATHERED FRIENDS. 
from home, and so we pick them up and carry them to 
our hospital. 
We have several empty cages about, one being the big 
cage which used to be “ Robby’s” house. When Robin 
died, we thought it was a pity to give his cage away 
or to have it dbing no good to anybody. 
So we called it our hospital. This hospital is “In 
memory of Robin,” as hospitals are sometimes built in 
“memory” of great men, or with money which rich 
men have left for that purpose. 
We do not remember how many birds have been 
taken to our hospital, but there have been a great 
many. We use the “smaller wards” —the little 
cages, you know — for little solitary birds. 
The last patients which we had in the large hospital 
were two wax-wings which we found maimed in some 
way so that they could not fly. They could get along 
pretty well low on the ground, but we were afraid the 
cats would steal them, and so our hospital nurse took 
charge of them. 
At first they were very wild and would scream when 
we touched them. But they tamed readily, and in a 
day or two would sit on our fingers and eat from our 
hands. We knew they were berry and insect eaters; 
but, as it was winter, and the insects scarce, we could 
think of nothing they would like but the pepper ber- 
ries. They lived on these for a few days, but evidently 
wanted other food. 
We tried angle-worms, but these did not suit. One 
