A HERMIT'S WILD FRIENDS 



his boys to sing the mating-song of his 

 species. 



Late in the fall death entered the family 

 circle. A boy from the city mistook poor 

 Mrs. Wabbles for an English sparrow and 

 shot her to death. Wabbles mourned for his 

 little wife, and he was not the only mourner. 

 I had become attached to the gentle bird, and 

 I was grievously pained by her tragic death. 



Wabbles lost his joyous manner. He 

 watched over his motherless babies with gentle 

 care, but not a song did I hear after the 

 tragedy. Later, he conducted the young 

 birds to a warmer climate, and was lost to me 

 until the next March. 



When Wabbles returned in the spring he 

 was alone, and his children did not appear 

 later. I suppose some motherly bird had 

 adopted the bereaved family, to take them 

 into the fields or pastures. 



In April, Wabbles deserted me for three 



days, then returned with another wife. This 



was an old bird, probably a widow. It was 



evident from the first that she thought Wab- 



62 



