Our Misfortunes. 1^^ 



satisfied, inasmuch as tlie same thing occurred to us 

 over and over again where the hens had no such excuse, 

 but where they and their lords proved equally remiss. 

 As soon as we discavered that the old birds did not 

 sufficiently feed them, we tried to supply their place 

 by feeding them ourselves. In this work and labour 

 of love, Judy bestowed great care and patience, getting 

 up by four o'clock in the morning to feed them, but it 

 was all. to little purpose. If we had begun with them 

 before they could see, perhaps we might have succeeded 

 better, but now they could open their eyes it was very 

 difficult to make them open their beaks and receive the 

 food which we offered. They knew the difference be- 

 tween the hand that gave and the beak which should have 

 brought them their necessary food, and, therefore, most 

 pertinaceously refused to take it. We did all we could 

 to surmount \he difficulty, and were most anxious to 

 supply the place of the parents, for the birds which we 

 now had we could already see would be beautifully 

 marked, and most rare in colour. Brilliant's were 

 splendid golden-crested lizards, whilst one of little 

 Blanche's w^as the most lovely and delicate fawn and 

 white I ever beheld. Its head and wings were just the 

 shade of that charming drab silk of which Quaker 

 ladies twenty years ago seemed to enjoy an exclusive 

 monopoly, but which their more fashionable successors 

 appear to have almost entirely forsaken. For a time 

 Judy's efforts seemed to prosper, and the bird to our 

 great delight became almost fully fledged ; but one 

 bitter cold night she took it up to her bed-room in 

 order to feed it as soon as it was light, when somehow 



