THE BABY "FLOPS." 51 



adding in the least to their anxiety, that I 

 should never have seen that young family 

 fledged, only that I knew perfectly well what 

 they did not, that I was a protection to them. 

 I tried to reassure the mother by addressing 

 her in her own language (as it were), and she 

 turned quickly, looked, listened, and returned 

 to her tree, quieted. This sound is a low 

 whistling through the teeth, which readily 

 soothes cage birds. It interests and calms 

 them, though I have no notion what it means 

 to them, for I am speaking an unknown tongue. 

 The baby on the tree was not quiet, climbing 

 about the branches every moment that he was 

 not engaged in dressing his feathers, the first 

 and most important business of the newly 

 emancipated nestling. After an hour or more 

 of watching there was a sudden stir in the fam- 

 ily, and the youngster made his appearance on 

 the ground. He was not under the side of the 

 tree on which he had been resting, so, although 

 I did not see the passage, I knew he had not 

 fallen, as he is popularly said to do, but flown 

 as well as he was able. I started slowly down 

 the yard to examine the little stranger, but was 

 absolutely startled by a cry from the mother, 

 that sounded exactly like " Go 'way ! " as I 

 have often heard a negro girl say it. Later it 

 was very familiar, a yearning, anxious heart- 

 aching sound to hear. 



