COUNTRY NEIGHBORS AGAIN. l8l 



ever they saw a glass window they fancied they could fly 

 through ; and so, taking aim hither and thither, they darted 

 head first against the glass, beating and bruising their 

 poor little heads without beating in any more knowledge 

 than they had before. Many a poor little feather-head 

 has thus fallen a victim to his want of natural philosophy, 

 and tired himself out with beating against window-panes, 

 till he has at last fallen dead. One day we picked up no 

 less than three dead birds in different parts of the house. 

 Now if it had only been possible to enlighten our feathered 

 friends in regard to the fact that everything that is trans 

 parent is not air, we would have summoned a bird council 

 in our conservatory, and explained matters to them at once 

 and altogether. As it is, we could only say, &quot; Oh ! &quot; and 

 &quot;Ah!&quot; and lament, as we have followed one poor victim 

 after another from window to window, and seen him 

 flutter and beat his pretty senseless head against the glass, 

 frightened to death at all our attempts to help him. 



As to the humming-birds, their number has been infinite. 

 Just back of the conservatory stands an immense, high 

 clump of scarlet sage, whose brilliant flowers have been 

 like a light shining from afar, and drawn to it flocks of 

 these little creatures ; and we have often sat watching them 

 as they put their long bills into one scarlet tube after 

 another, lifting themselves lightly off the bush, poising a 

 moment in mid-air, and then dropping out of sight. 



