146 BEAUTIFUL BIRDS 
left which are guite so pretty. But I think I can find 
just one more that is not such a very plain bird, not 
a bird you would call ugly if you were to see it 
hovering about over a bed of geraniums or under a 
cluster of honeysuckle, some bright spring or summer 
morning when you happened to go out into your 
garden. So we will take that one, and, if he is not 
pretty enough, you must just try to put up with 
him. 
He is called the Sun Beauty. Perhaps you 
would think him dark at first, for his head and 
back and shoulders are of such a rich, deep, vel- 
vety green that it almost goes into black velvet— 
all except one little spot on the forehead, just above 
the beak, and that never can look guise black. 
Sometimes it does almost, just for one second, but 
the next second it flashes into green again, and 
oh, how it gleams and sparkles and throws out little 
jewels, little splashes of sun-fire all round it! 
What a wonderful green it is!—at first, and then 
—oh, what a wonderful—but really there is no 
proper name for shat colour. I was going to say 
“blue,” and perhaps it is more like blue than any- 
thing else, but nothing else is quite like it. Then, just 
at the beginning of this Humming-bird’s throat— 
just under the chin—there are a few feathers that 
are like a kind of dusky-smoked-magenta-bronze- 
