CHEEPER," A SPARROW BABY. 



BY ANNE W. JACKSON. 



ONE day in May, as I was hurry 

 ing along the street, my steps 

 were arrested by the distressed 

 chirping of a sparrow on the 

 opposite sidewalk. Thinking that 

 probably a young sparrow had fallen 

 from the nest, I -picked my way across 

 the muddy road to the other side to 

 see what I could do. 



The poor little sparrow-mother was 

 wildly hopping about and chirping in 

 sore distress. And what a pitiful sight 

 greeted my eyes! Upon the wet grass, 

 under the very jaws of an evil-looking 

 little black-and-tan dog, was a poor, 

 draggled, shivering baby sparrow 



At sight of me the dog coolly picked 

 up the baby and trotted off. I followed 

 and he soon dropped it; but I couldn't 

 succeed in driving him away. He still 

 remained in sight, bold and impudent. 



I was in a sad dilemma. Of the two 

 evils which confronted me, or rather 

 the baby, which would prove the less? 



The trees all about the place were 

 tall ones, with no low branches. There 

 was no hope of returning the baby to 

 its nest. It was too weak from cold 

 and fright, as well as too young, to fly. 

 If I left it the dog would certainly re 

 turn and devour it before its mother's 

 eyes. 



On the other hand, if I took it home 

 with me it would probably die under 

 my ignorant care. However, I decided 

 on the latter course, so clasping it close 

 in my hand, continued on my way. 



Those who have a continual grudge 

 against the English sparrow will say, 

 "Why all this fuss over a miserable lit 

 tle nuisance of a sparrow?" and think 

 the wisest thing would have been to 

 leave it to its fate. But the superfluity 

 of the English sparrow is not the ques 

 tion in a case like this. When some 

 thing weak and helpless is thrown across 

 our path, it simply remains for us to 

 help and save it, if it is in our power. 



On the way home I pondered a good 

 deal over the question of how I should 

 care for it and feed it, and what I could 

 find to keep it in, as I had no bird-cage. 



When I got Master Sparrow home, 

 and had thoroughly warmed him and 

 dried his little feathers (they were very 

 few!) I put him into the best substitute 

 for a bird-cage that I could find, and 

 that was a large wire rat-trap! 



The next question was, what to feed 

 him. As I had seen sparrows picking 

 at the cornmeal which we mixed and 

 gave to the little chickens, I ventured 

 to put some of it into his cage. 



I watched him a good deal that day 

 and didn't see him eat a morsel. But 

 as he seemed stronger and more lively 

 the next day, I concluded he was bash 

 ful and only ate when I wasn't looking. 



Soon, however, he grew less afraid of 

 me and would hop about and peck at 

 his food when I was near. I began to 

 vary his diet, too, and gave him what 

 green slugs I could find on the rose 

 bushes, as well as minced earthworms. 

 He ate the slugs eagerly and seemed 

 to enjoy tugging at wriggling bits of 

 earthworm. 



He also began to develop quite a 

 voice and " cheeped" so loudly that I 

 named him "Cheeper." 



I grew very fond of him and watched 

 him grow and feather out with great 

 pride and interest. As he became 

 stronger he grew more eager to get out 

 of his cage. It quite went to my heart 

 to see him beating against the wires, 

 and vainly striving for freedom. But 

 I feared he couldn't take care of him 

 self; and also that the other birds might 

 not receive him well. 



So I kept him seven days. I put his 

 cage in the window several times where 

 he could look out on the world and be 

 come acquainted with the colony of 

 sparrows which inhabits the Virginia 

 creeper covering the north side of our 

 house. He would "cheep" very loudly 

 on these occasions and try harder than 

 ever to get out. His presence in the 

 window made a great commotion among 

 the other sparrows, who chirped ex 

 citedly and flew about, taking long 

 looks at him. Two of them went so 

 far as to alight on his cage. 



103 



