Jim. 



m 



of a field glass, we could even distinguish 

 their names. We had a garden in front of 

 the hoifse, and one on either side, and one 

 in the rear. In this latter garden we kept 

 dozens of chickens — rare, fine breeds — and 

 you should have heard how our bird Jim 

 mimicked the timid "cheep! cheep/'' of the 

 tiny chicks, and the important, motherly 

 '^ cluck! cluck!" of the old hens, as they 

 went bustling around the yard. Jim came 

 to us in this manner: 



There is a time of year, in all hot coun- 

 tries, when it becomes dangerous to remain 

 in the cities, on account of the yellow fever. 

 One summer, when I had taken my family 

 up into the mountains to a place called 

 Palmeiras, little Ruth one day found a 

 wounded bird in the woods, near the house, 

 where she was walking with Antonio, our 

 copeiro, or man-servant. The bird was a 

 big, plain, gray fellow — not handsome at 

 all — and had evidently been bitten by a 

 snake or tarantula, a large, hairy and very 

 poisonous kind of spider — or some one of 

 the venomous creatures that abound in the 

 South American forests. Ruth picked him 

 up and carried him home, and she nursed 

 him, with our help, until in a few days he 

 was hopping about and chirping, and was 

 almost able to fly. There was a celebrated 

 naturalist traveling in Brazil at this time — 

 a man of sweet and kindly nature, who 

 loved children, as well as all the rest of 

 creation, and of whom the little ones were 

 never afraid. You can all ask your moth- 

 ers his name, little people, and read his 

 books, when you are older, and learn about 

 his wonderful knowledge and his discov- 

 eries, and above all what a good man he 

 was. Well ! This great and good man 

 came to make us a visit of a few days, at 

 our cottage, and small Miss Ruth, nothing 

 dismayed, at once brought her half-sick 

 bird, wrapped up in a shawl, to show 

 him. The professor was delighted. "Why, 

 my child, you have rescued a Sabia da 

 Fria, the Brazilian mockingbird," he said; 



"you are a very fortunate little girl. Do 

 not let him get away. Ask your father to 

 buy you a large cage for him, and when he 

 gets well, as he soon will, you will see what 

 a famous singer he will prove to be." Ruth 

 clapped her hands and danced around the 

 room for very pride and happiness. To 

 think that she, her own little self, had found 

 this precious Sabia ! 



Now, Ruth already possessed a perfect 

 menagerie of dogs and cats and birds, and 

 a scrap of a monkey, and a naughty rooster 

 that was the terror of the neighborhood, 

 and what not, but she did not tire of her 

 old pets when a new one was given to her, 

 as so many children do. She was a loyal, 

 faithful little soul, and if Jim was her great- 

 est favorite it was not because he was the 

 latest arrival in her family, but because she 

 had saved his life. 



Jim did grow to be a famous singer. I 

 had a roomy, comfortable cage made for 

 him to live in, and as he was a young bird, 

 he soon grew perfectly at home in his new 

 quarters, and seemed bright and contented 

 and strong. He began to sing at once, 

 every day a little more, every day treat- 

 ing us to prettier songs than before. 

 After two or three months had passed 

 over his head he began to astonish us 

 and everybody with his exquisite wild 

 notes and his fresh imitations, for you know, 

 children, that these birds are called mock- 

 ingbirds because they mimic or mock every 

 sound they hear. There was nothing, from 

 the mewing of cats, the barking of dogs, 

 braying of donkeys, neighing of horses, and 

 other noises, down to the cry or crow of a 

 baby, or human laughter, but what Jim 

 could imitate, and well, too. It would have 

 made you all laugh to. hear him. But be- 

 sides these funny imitations, Jim could pour 

 forth from his plain gray throat a flood of 

 long, entrancing melody that I have never 

 heard equalled, and as he was a loud, bril- 

 liant and joyous singer, not in the least shy, 

 he could be heard, when we took him back 



