AMEBIC AN ORNITHOLOGY. 309 



they would fly to the bottom of the cage and take in a relay of gravel. 

 Long before Brownie had learned to help himself to his food he dis- 

 played a benevolent spirit that caused me no little surprise. A pair of 

 young Orchard Orioles, just taken from the nest, were put into the cage 

 with him. They were sweet little birds, of almost a golden yellow, 

 and deserve a monograph all to themselves. A little comedy was enact- 

 ed when Brownie and the Orioles were introduced. Coming face to 

 face with one of them. Brownie looked narrowly at his chirping neigh- 

 bor a moment, then squatted upon his haunches and opened his mouth 

 as widely as he could, expecting the little thing to feed him. Of course 

 the Oriole also opened his mouth, and there the two feathered babies 

 sat, gaping at each other, the one looking like a giant compared with 

 the other. This little farce was played again and again, to the infinite 

 delight of the human spectators. 



The Orioles were almost incessantly 

 chirping for food, as is the habit of 

 young birds of this species in the wild 

 state. After a few days. Brownie must 

 have made up his mind that his little 

 comrades were suffering from hunger, 

 and for this reason he exhibited the 

 benevolent or paternal disposition to 

 which I have referred. One day I gave 

 him a fly. Instead of swallowing it, he 

 chirped and twittered in a sweet, coax- 

 ing way, and leaped up to the perch 

 beside one of the orioles, which turned to him with open mandibles. 

 Then what did Brownie do but try to put the fly into the Oriole's m.outh? 

 He did not succeed that time, for he had not yet learned to manipulate 

 the fly with sufficient skill, but it was evident that his intentions were 

 sincere. Instead of getting the fly into his little charge's throat, he 

 could not loosen it from his own bill, and so, the first thing he and I 

 knew, he had swallowed it himself. However, he soon learned by 

 practice and experiment to hold a fly in the end of his bill, and thrust it 

 down into the Oriole's throat. Sometimes, oddly enough, after he had 

 pushed the fly down into the throat of one of his little friends, he would 

 try to recover it, as if he regretted his generosity and wished he had 

 eaten it himself. 



But Brownie was not all suavity. A young Blue Jay was added to 

 my little aviary. After he had learned to eat from my hand and had 

 mastered the art of perching, he was put into the large cage with the 

 other birds. This was too much for Brownie's equanimity. He re- 



