68 HUM, THE SON OF BUZ. 



smart, pert, airy little character that we had so often seen 

 flirting with the flowers. He was evidently a humming 

 bird in adversity, and whether he ever would hum again 

 looked to us exceedingly doubtful. Immediately, however, 

 we sent out to have him taken in. When the friendly 

 hand seized him, he gave a little, faint, watery squeak, evi 

 dently thinking that his last hour was come, and that grim 

 Death was about to carry him off to the land of dead 

 birds. What a time we had reviving him, holding the 

 little wet thing in the warm hollow of our hands, and 

 feeling him shiver and palpitate ! His eyes were fast 

 closed ; his tiny claws, which looked slender as cobwebs, 

 were knotted close to his body, and it was long before one 

 could feel the least motion in them. Finally, to our great 

 joy, we felt a brisk little kick, and then a flutter of wings, 

 and then a determined peck of the beak, which showed 

 that there was some bird left in him yet, and that he 

 meant at any rate to find out where he was. 



Unclosing our hands a small space, out popped the lit 

 tle head with a pair of round brilliant eyes. Then we 

 bethought ourselves of feeding him, and forthwith prepared 

 him a stiff glass of sugar and water, a drop of which we 

 held to his bill. After turning his head attentively, like 

 a bird who knew what he was about and didn t mean to 

 be chaffed, he briskly put out a long, flexible tongue, 

 slightly forked at the end, and licked off the comfortable 



