Some Bird Orphans 
By MiSS L. H. SCHROEDER, Amsterdam, Montgomery Co.. N. Y. 
UNE 12, 1909, a junior member of the Audubon Society brought me 
J a little rusty-looking bird, fully feathered, but perfectly helpless. The 
boy said he found him near the river, and his father said it was a young 
Crow, and wanted to have it killed. I could not say what sort of a bird it 
was; but it was a bird, and must be cared for. He was too young to take 
food, and for many days I was obliged to force open his bill and feed him. 
Slowly he grew, and learned to take food. In July, his feathers began to 
change; his head became a beautiful blue, and the wings and tail an iridescent 
purple and I knew that it was a Bronzed Grackle. He then ventured ’to fly 
on the limb of a tree near the door, but came at my call at any time, walking 
in and out at his pleasure during the day, and never failing to come in early 
each evening, to be put to bed in his cage. If went out he followed me like 
a little dog, and I was obliged to steal out to go on the street. 
It would fill many pages were I to recount the amusing things he did 
during the day. One of his favorite places was a shelf in the kitchen on which 
stood a clock and a number of other things which interested him very much. 
He would work with great energy until the clock door was opened, and then 
watch the pendulum go back and forth. Among the things on the shelf was 
a basket filled with balls of cotton and other material for mending; all these 
he threw on the floor, one by one, and, when the basket was empty, he sat 
in it seemingly much pleased with his new bed. Often, when I was at dinner, 
he would sit on my shoulder and watch, and in a moment his bill would be 
in my ear and he would fairly shout. At breakfast, he generally sat in my lap 
and had his share of toast and coffee, drinking the coffee from a teaspoon. 
It has been said that the Grackle is fond of corn, and does considerable dam- 
age to corn-fields. I experimented with cracked corn, green corn, boiled corn, 
canned corn, and corn in all shapes, but he would have none of it; but a nice 
fat berry bug or a succulent spider were never refused. He would not touch 
any sort of fruit, but a cracker, a bit of cake, or a little roasted or boiled meat 
were eaten with a relish. Sometimes he would fly on my shoulder and put 
his bill in my mouth, to force it open, and then examine my teeth, to see if 
they were firm,—not a very pleasant proceeding when I thought of the berry 
bugs and spiders! As the summer advanced, he took long flights to the woods, 
and at times was gone for hours; but he always returned to his home, and came 
to my hand at my call anywhere. When the leaves began to turn, I expected 
him to go southward; but September came and passed, and he seemed to have 
no thought of going. October 18, in the morning, he seemed restless, and 
finally flew away, and, as it had grown quite cold, I felt sure he had migrated. 
October 22, he returned, and came to the window to be let in out of the cold, 
and when I went out he flew to my shoulder and expressed his joy in every 
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