FRIENDS IN FEATHERS 



living birds in the nest for pets. She knew she had failed with 

 them, and soon they would be dead, for she greeted with joy 

 my proposition to give her for the birds and cage what I 

 had intended paying for the sewing, which I carried back to do 

 myself. 



First I put an egg and a potato of the same size to boil, while 

 I cleaned the filth from the birds and fashioned for them a nest as 

 nearly as possible like I thought the bottom of their woven purse 

 would be. I used an old mitten, putting cotton in the bottom 

 to absorb the excrement which I could not remove as the nests 

 prove the parent Orioles do. Then I mashed the yolk of the egg, 

 added a small amount of potato, moistened it with saliva, pried 

 open the mouths of the half-dead birds and administered a 

 small bite to each. They were not over a week old, but at the 

 third feeding they opened their bills widely and cried the plaintive 

 notes of baby Orioles when full fed and sleepy. We got along 

 very well. The birds grew and became from the first the most 

 lovable little feathered friends I ever had. 



When they graduated from the nest, I put them in the cage, 

 where they soon learned to feed themselves and use the perches. 

 They had known nothing but the cage, they never made the 

 slightest objections to it, and were so engaging and attractive that 

 soon I invested in a big brass cage, the largest size made for 

 Redbirds, which at that time were common captives. A friend 

 begged so hard for one of them I gave her the old cage and the 

 one I knew was a female; the male all of us petted constantly. 

 The cage door stood open, so he had the freedom of the house, 

 while if I \vent out to the trees to read or to sew, his cage, with 

 the door closed, was carried with me. 



I talked to him continually, spending more time with him 

 than any bird I ever had in my own home. His coat began tak- 

 ing on its golden colour at a very early age; the black markings 



44 



