A Bluebird Story 



95 



fluttered into a low plum bush, and after a few more flutterings landed on the 

 ground. Seeing that he could not raise himself very well, I picked him up, 

 amid the loud and excited protests of his relatives. He made no attempt to 

 escape, and did not utter a sound or seem frightened, only his claws clung 

 instinctively to the grass, and he panted slightly with the exertion of his 

 venture. 



He was exceedingly pretty, but looked too young to be out of the nest. 

 His tail was very short, and his eyes seemed unusually large and bright. Think- 

 ing that he would be safer in the nest, I climbed up and replaced him, and he, 

 as soon as he could get his breath, turned around and came out again, this 

 time reaching a fairly safe place in one of the larger plum bushes. So, after 

 watching for a few moments, to see that he did not fall again, I left him, and, 

 thinking that I would only complicate matters by staying, I did not wait to 

 see the other nestlings leave the nest. 



The next morning when I went out, the plum thicket was quiet and deserted. 

 And, though I made some search for the young Bluebirds, I could not find 

 them; but for the rest of the summer I heard them from time to time, and often 

 saw the old birds. 



AN EARLY MIGRANT 

 Photograplied by Guy A. Bailey, at Geneseo, N. Y. 



