A Word for the English Sparrow. 



255 



ligent and affectionate, of which I have had 

 abundant proof, having brought up several 

 sparrow children that I have found in my 

 garden unable to fly, and I could not leave 

 them in their helplessness to fall a prey to 

 the cat. No two were alike in character, 

 each one was as distinct from the other as 

 my neighbor's little Harry and Willie and 

 Carrie. 



The spafrows evidently appreciated my 

 kindness to their offspring, and manifested 

 a degree of intelligence in the matter truly 

 remarkable. 



I was watching a pair of these birds one 

 day feeding a little one on the ground, 

 which apparently caused them a great deal 

 of anxiety, as it would go into the road. 



Suddenly the parents flew up to my win- 

 dow, and looked steadily at me. I said, 

 " Do you want me to get the baby ? Very 

 well, I'll come," but I purposely delayed, 

 to see what they would do further, when 

 the female became impatient, and went to 

 the basement window, pressing her breast 

 against the glass, and striking it repeatedly 

 with her bill, at the same time uttering loud 

 cries. Fortunately a member of the family 

 who understood the bird's appeal was in 

 the dining room at the time, and the adven- 

 turous baby soon found himself in a wooden 

 cage on my window sill, when the parents 

 resumed feeding it as if nothing had hap- 

 pened out of the common, and as if it was 

 an every-day occurrence for sparrows to 

 knock at the doors and windows of houses, 

 and request the inmates to take care of 

 Little Fluffy. 



I was generally successful in rearing the 

 nestlings I picked up, and they soon learned 

 to enjoy the delights of a sand bath, so 

 much so indeed that I really was afraid 

 sometimes they would rub all their feathers 

 off (the few they had) but a water bath was 

 always an epoch in their existence. I would 

 hold them poised on my finger over a saucer 



of water, and the more intelligent of them 

 would cling to my hand with one foot, while 

 they would ascertain the depth of the water 

 with the other, and when they found it 

 was only knee deep it did not require 

 much urging to induce them to enter boldly 

 in. 



One young lady was so intemperate in 

 the use of the bath that she had scarcely 

 ever a dry thread — I mean feather — upon 

 her. When I turned on the faucet, the sound 

 of the running water would throw her into 

 ecstasies, and she would spread her wings 

 and plunge about on the floor in delighted 

 anticipation of the coming luxury. 



Fond as I grew of the little creatures, I 

 gave them their liberty as soon as they were 

 strong on the wing. Not that I ever caged 

 them, except at night, for the sight of a caged 

 bird always pains me, and at the risk of be- 

 ing thought tedious I feel that these details 

 would be incomplete if I failed to record the 

 sayings and doings of our little pet, named 

 Doll Baby. She was the beauty of the 

 family; the rich color of her plumage was 

 quite phenomenal, and like other young 

 ladies, seemed desirous of showing her fine 

 clothes to the admiring throng. So I liber- 

 ated her in one of the city parks. 



I missed my little pet very much, and about 

 a week afterward I turned my steps to the 

 park, and as I approached the spot where 

 she had flown from my hand, I called " Baby! 

 Baby!" in the vain hope of seeing her, when 

 to my unbounded delight and surprise, the 

 little creature came flying toward me. It 

 was a tender meeting, but my friend did 

 not look happy. She had found the world 

 was not all sunshine, even to a little birdie, 

 and I felt that the time for us two to part 

 had not come yet, so I folded my veil round 

 her and brought her home, not at all 

 ashamed of the emotions that had been stir- 

 red in my heart by the love of an English 

 sparrow — only a sparrow. 



Emma Thornton. 



