FUSS AND FEATHERS 



lasting impression upon me, and upon all who ac- 

 companied me, was a fox sparrow. No sooner had 

 we paused before the big cage than a strange ex- 

 citement seemed to seize this bird, and it began 

 flying from one end of the enclosure to the other, 

 clinging for a moment to the wires at each end, 

 and singing in the most ecstatic manner, and by 

 its enthusiasm kindling one or two other birds into 

 song. I had heard the fox sparrow many times, but 

 never before one that approached this one in power 

 and brilliancy. It sang in a strain varied and copi- 

 ous beyond compare — a kind of musical frenzy. 

 It was fairly startling. The man in charge said 

 he had never heard it sing before, nor had any of 

 my companions. I saw at once that the thought 

 in all minds, which soon came out in words, was 

 that the bird was singing to me; that it had re- 

 cognized me as a bird-lover, and was intoxicated by 

 the discovery. There were other bird-lovers in the 

 company. There is, of course, some other explana- 

 tion of the extraordinary performance, but what it 

 is no one could suggest. There was nothing striking 

 or unusual in the appearance of any of us, yet our 

 presence seemed to act like fire to a fuse, and that 

 one bird was the rocket that astonished and de- 

 lighted us all. It darted about the enclosure as if its 

 joy were uncontrollable, and sang in a spirit to 

 match. I venture to say that none of those present 

 will ever forget the incident. The more I thought 



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