A FLYING BREAKFAST AT 



"MON REPOS" 



AIKEN, SOUTH CAROLINA. 



By Celestine Eustis 



My windows giving on a roof, over a porch, for 

 years I have fed birds of all kinds there morning and 

 evening. I give them a mixture of cracked corn, 

 wheat and oats, such food as one gives to young chick- 

 ens. My porch overlooking the pine forests, the birds 

 can see the food from a distance. 



When we first come South in December, there are 

 very few birds around the house, but they very soon 

 know of the arrival of their friends.. The Sparrows 

 find us out first — then the Blue Jaj^s ; they give a loud 

 signal calling their friends with true southern hos- 

 pitality. Then I have what I call a blue breakfast; 

 later comes the Cardinal, and that is a red breakfast. 

 If a Mockingbird should happen to drop in, he fights 

 them all, like the Kaiser, to get his rights. After that 

 I have what I call a table d'hote, composed of Spar- 

 rows and strange birds passing through. 



One spring morning I saw one of the prettiest sights 

 I ever beheld. That morning while there were a great 

 many English Sparrows for breakfast, there came a 

 couple of Cardinals: Mr. and Mme. Cardinal. Mr. 

 was robed in brilliant red, with a rich, red top-knot, 

 Mme. was robed in reddish-green feathers. Monsieur 

 Cardinal looked so pleased and so proud, he gallanted 

 her. Madam was lame, she had but one foot and 

 could not walk but hopped about painfully. Her 



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