226 BIRD ENEMIES. 



of which we know little. ^ One day, in my walk, I 

 came upon a goldfinch with the tip of one wing 

 securely fastened to the feathers of its rump, by what 

 appeared to be the silk of some caterpillar. The 

 bird, though uninjured, was completely crippled, and 

 could not fly a stroke. Its little body was hot and 

 panting in my hands, as I carefully broke the fetter. 

 Then it darted swiftly away with a happy cry. A 

 record of all the accidents and tragedies of bird life 

 for a single season would show many curious inci- 

 dents. A friend of mine opened his box stove one 

 fall to kindle a fire in it, when he beheld in the black 

 interior the desiccated forms of two bluebirds. The 

 birds had probably taken refuge in the chimney dur- 

 ing some cold spring storm, and had come down the 

 pipe to the stove, from whence they were unable to 

 ascend. A peculiarly touching little incident of bird 

 life occurred to a caged female canary. Though un- 

 mated, it laid some eggs, and the happy bird was so 

 carried away by her feelings that she would offer 

 food to the eggs, and chatter and twitter, trying, as 

 it seemed, to encourage them to eat ! The incident is 

 hardly tragic, neither is it comic. 



Certain birds nest in the vicinity of our houses and 

 outbuildings, or even in and upon them, for protec- 

 tion from their enemies, but they often thus ex- 

 pose themselves to a plague of the most deadly char- 

 acter. 



I refer to the vermin with which their nests often 

 swarm, and which kill the young before they are 



