2 -JO 



The Wou7ided Redstart. 



what could I do with the poor whig ! Nature 

 works wonders sometimes, but even she 

 could not knit those fragile bones together, 

 while the owner kept bobbing up and down 

 like a daddy-longlegs. 



From my experience of birds, I have ob- 

 served that they are much tamer when they 

 are allowed the freedom of a room, than 

 when confined in a cage. So I took the little 

 feather-weight out of the basket and placed 

 a shallow dish of water on the floor before 

 him. So thirsty ! one, two, three times has 

 he darted his slender bill in the dish, and 

 now he is standing in it to cool his feet, 

 and kissing at me for more flies. 



Fortunately at this juncture my Swedish 

 maid appeared with a fresh supply, and I 

 fed them to him one by one, until he was 

 satisfied — until, at last, I saw "balmy sleep, 

 nature's sweet restorer," settle down upon 

 my little bird, when I left the room on tip- 

 toe. 



I was unwilling, however, to leave him 

 at large during the night, so the basket was 

 again brought into requisition. But I re- 

 gret to say, he was not one of those good 

 little birdies that go to bed at sundown, for 

 he was afoot while there was the faintest 

 gleam of light, so I left him to get his head 

 behind his wing before 1 transferred him 

 to the basket. 



Then I began to cast about as to what I 

 could get for his breakfast, and hit upon 

 the expedient of a hard boiled egg made 

 into a paste with pounded cracker. So 

 when I assisted my friend to rise the next 

 morning, I told him that while he remained 

 with me, I should provide ^g% paste for the 

 staff of life, and that flies and such deli- 

 cacies would be served for dessert. 



He expressed himself perfectly satisfied 

 with this arrangement by every inflection 

 of which a kiss is capable, and fell to work 

 on the paste with a will. Afterward he 

 took his bath, and made his toilet for the 

 day. But my pleasure in watching this 

 dainty operation was greatly marred by the 



evident signs of pain it gave the little crea- 

 ture. Still, the wing did not hang down 

 quite so helplessly as on the previous day, 

 so it might not be broken after all. 



By this time our acquaintance had rip- 

 ened into a permanent friendship, and 1 

 had leisure to study the dress and appoint- 

 ments of my little friend. Surely I had 

 read the description in " Hints to Audubon 

 Workers." But I could not call to mind 

 whether it was a May hint or a December 

 one. So I took them in order and found 

 the description at last: "The Female Red- 

 start." 



And I had been addressing my friend as 

 he ! However, it was no use to take the 

 matter seriously, so I laughingly apologized 

 to Mrs. Redstart, for having mistaken her 

 for one of the sterner sex. 



She turned her pretty head aside with a 

 quizzical look, and I thought she was laugh- 

 ing at me under her feathers. 



There was a little awkwardness at first 

 on both sides, but our friendship rested on 

 too firm a basis to be easily shaken, and 

 whenever I entered my friend's apartment, 

 she would come running up toward me, 

 spreading out her pretty tail like a fan, and 

 kissing at me for the coveted fly which she 

 knew I had brought for her. 



The only point of difference between us 

 was my friend's predilection for late hours, 

 but as she frequently indulged in forty 

 winks during the day (more particularly 

 after a surfeit of flies) it was not to be ex- 

 pected -that she was ready to go to bed as 

 early as other folks. 



On the third morning of Mrs. Redstart's 

 sojourn with me, I noticed a marked im- 

 provement in her wing — but it was power- 

 less for flight as yet. So as she could not 

 reach the windows, I threw open the blinds, 

 and let the sunshine stream in, and the flies 

 too. It was a day of unparalleled happi- 

 ness; the staff of life was left untasted, and 

 flies could be had for the asking, or rather, 

 the catching. I never saw such restless 



