i62 Bird - Lore 



Where the horse-chestnut grows, the little Hummingbird appears with the 

 blossoms of this tree — at least, in Lincoln Park, Chicago, this was true. 



A glimpse of a Ruby-throat makes one sure of the male. The female's 

 throat is just whitish, without bright color. Stripped of its brilliant, irides- 

 cent, green feathers, the Hummingbird's body is no larger around than one's 

 finger, yet so powerful are the muscles of this mite that it is stronger for its 

 size than most other birds. 



With minute insects and the sweet honey of flowers for food, and wings so 

 tireless that they seem forever in motion, what a life must this little bird lead, 

 making the rounds of gardens and vine-covered porches from sunrise until 

 dewfall! 



And yet it has come hundreds of miles over long stretches of land from 

 Central America and Mexico, to find a place to put its tiniest of nests. If 

 you will split a walnut or some round nut about the size of a walnut, and 



Courtesy of Smithsonian Institution 



TONGUES OF HUMMINGBIRDS 



cover it with light-colored lichens, and then, with the skill of a fairy, Hne the 

 inside snugly, you will have some idea of the size of the Hummingbird's nest. 



There is just room for two truly wee, white eggs. When the nest is all 

 finished, set, as it usually is, on the limb of a tree, it looks so like a knot in 

 the bark of the tree that the sharpest eye, having once found it, can hardly 

 discover it a second time. 



Although so small, no bird shows more courage in defending its nest than 

 the beautiful "Ruby- throat." Even the Kingbird and quarrelsome English 

 Sparrow draw back from its fierce attacks, as it darts like a bewitched arrow 

 among these larger birds. 



I used to watch the Hummingbird, when a child, as it visited each flower 

 along the broad beds which ran about the piazza of my home. Never seeing 

 one alight, I believed that the Httle hummer never rested. Roses, lilies, scarlet 

 runner, honeysuckle, and other blossoming plants, made the dazzling visitor 

 welcome; but of all the flowers then about the piazza, the morning-glories 

 seemed most in favor. 



It was at this time that I used to hunt for fairies. When the dew fell at 

 night, I was sure it had something to do with these little people. 



Years after, on a hot August day, I was again watching the Hummingbird 



