160 AMERICAN ORNITHOLOGY. 



a bee-line for another part of the grove. Under a sudden impulse, I 

 started after him on a run. About seventy-five yards on his course, he 

 suddenly dipped to the ground and rising continued his flight. Fixing 

 my eyes on the tree in which he disappeared, I kept the straight line 

 and increased my speed. 



The female flew up from directly in my path and I stopped instantly 

 to find the nest and five eggs at my feet. At the point where the male 

 dipped to the ground in his flight was the nest of the illustration, 



A TRUE STORY OF A BLUEBIRa 



I had read many times of the success of bird-lovers with wild birds 

 in cages and I had resolved to try what I could do in that line whenever 

 I found the opportunity. 



One beautiful day in May I discovered a Bluebird's nest in an old 

 pump nearby. I watched it with zealous care and when the wee bird- 

 lings were hatched the first day of June I redoubled my attentions. 

 The days crept on and the fledglings grew. The twelfth, thirteenth 

 and fourteenth day passed. The fifteenth day at noon the birds were 

 snugly sleeping in their cozy nook and I saw no signs of leaving. 



Imagine my consternation a little after four o'clock that afternoon to 

 see the nest empty! Everywhere I might look I could find no trace of 

 the young birds. I searched as long as I could that night and renewed 

 my quest early the hext morning. I was sure the birds could not be 

 very far off for the nearest trees were some rods away. At last in the 

 wet grass I found one bedraggled bird and still later the half-eaten 

 body of another. The fate of the third blue baby I never new. The 

 one I captured I took home with me feeding it often with egg and 

 potato and giving at each meal a few drops of water. This was Friday. 



Saturday I continued to feed it every hour and of tener if it called and 

 in the late afternoon the birdling first helped itself to food. That ended 

 my service as nurse. Henceforth I studied the diet and disposition of 

 my bird and sought to keep it healthy and happy. I read that grated 

 carrot was nice food and I took pains to bring in a fresh carrot from the 

 garden every morning. Sand I furnished daily and my Bluebird grew 

 and throve. It soon began to trill a little song, sweet and low, but very 

 musical. 



Flies and spiders are its special relish. Fearing a time when I could 

 not get such luxuries for it I one day scraped a little beefsteak and gave 

 to the bird. This was even better than the insect dainties. Berries, 

 lettuce, cherries, sweetcorn, oatmeal, crackers and celery vary the bill 

 of fare, but the yolk of egg and grated carrot are its staple food. I do 



