THE OOLOGIST 



230 



his soft, brownish gray plumage and 

 bright eyes he had become a very 

 pretty little bird. At first he was 

 rather troublesome at night for at 

 the first peep of dawn he began to 

 demand food vociferously; and as it 

 is bright daylight shortly after three 

 on May mornings in the south of 

 England his first meal was a fairly 

 early one. However as I was taking 

 care of my little niece who began 

 life a month or two before the starl- 

 ing it was simple enough to feed 

 both babies at the same time. He 

 soon began to scramble out of his 

 basket and make attempts at flying; 

 and in ten days he was quite secure 

 on his wings. 



Then the question arose as to 

 what was to be done with him. We 

 could not bear to keep a wild bird 

 in captivity, but would he be able 

 to fend for himself if we set him 

 free? Suddenly the thought came to 

 me — why not try to train him to fly 

 about outside but return to the house 

 to be fed? How delightful if this 

 could be accomplished. At any rate 

 it would do no harm to try, and I 

 began at once. 



The first time I took him into the 

 garden I tied a long thread to one 

 leg, and he took short flights at the 

 end of it. This fretted him, how- 

 ever, and the next day after walking 

 about with him for awhile I very 

 tremblingly let him go. But to my 

 relief after flying about nearby for 

 awhile he came to me of his own ac- 

 cord. The next day he flew out of 

 my window towards evening, and 

 when darkness came on and he did 

 not return, I feared I would never 

 see him again. Early the next morn- 

 ing, however, to my great delight, I 

 was awakened by his loud clear call, 

 and in he flew, as pleased to come 

 home as we were to have him. 

 After this he went and came at 



his own will, free as the wind and 

 unconfined. Soon he always stayed 

 out at nights, choosing a particularly 

 tall horse chestnut tree near the 

 house for his sleeping quarters. But 

 all day long he would be in and out 

 of the house just as he fancied. Of- 

 ten he would appear at the breakfast 

 table, his coming always heralded by 

 the same loud call, but after he 

 knocked over and smashed a beauti- 

 ful Chelsea cup, his presence in the 

 dining room was rather discouraged. 

 He liked the kitchen best, however, 

 for he knew he would always find 

 his saucer of bread and milk. Varied 

 as his diet became, including almost 

 everything from flies and spiders to 

 fruitcake and bananas, he always re- 

 mained faithful to his first food. In 

 the kitchen also was his favorite 

 singing perch. There he would sit 

 and sing by the hour, his song grow- 

 ing sweeter and clearer as the sum- 

 mer advanced. Everyday he became 

 more intelligent and interesting. He 

 loved to play with the trinkets on 

 my dressing table, and to walk about 

 the floor carrying pieces of paper al- 

 most as big as himself. Once when 

 I was sewing he seized my thimble 

 and bore it off in triumph. I hurried 

 after him and after leading me a 

 pretty chase through the garden he 

 finally dropped it at my feet. He 

 had many roguish tricks, and was es- 

 pecially fond of playing with the 

 children, biting their fingers, and 

 with raised crest and ruffled feath- 

 ers, pretending to fight with them. 

 And when the baby lay kicking on 

 her rug in the sunshine he always 

 made frantic dives at the little pink 

 toes, but he was careful never to 

 hurt her in the least, and seemed to 

 know he must be gentle. 



At first he seldom left the garden, 

 but later on I often saw him flying 

 far over the fields, and sometimes 



