17° Bird -Lore 



cute and affectionate, perfectly satisfied if one sits quietly in the room and he 

 can fly and play around, and loves to tear papers. Tramp is easily taught 

 tricks, and will walk up stairs from one finger to another, jump rope, etc. 



Of course he is a care, as we have to watch him for fear of the cats. Knowing 

 that we do not harm him, Tramp does not seem to think anything will trouble 

 him, not even cats, from whom one would imagine birds would feel an instinct- 

 ive shrinking. But no, he flies down on the ground directly in front of them, 

 and the cats naturally jump. One day Tramp was caught. He gave a most 

 pathetic cry, and all the family were out after him, likewise all the birds in the 

 neighborhhood collected with much noise. The cat dropped the bird, who 

 flew up into the trees, and it was some time before he could be coaxed down, 

 when he finally flew right on my shoulder. One leg was very much hurt, hanging 

 down almost helpless, not broken, but pulled a little out of place; so we bathed 

 it with arnica, and poor Tramp was an invalid and kept quietly in the cage 

 for over a week. After that, hoping he had learned his lesson and knowing 

 he must take care of himself, the screen and window were left open (and he 

 had really to be put out sometimes). He would remain in the trees for three 

 or four hours at a time, but always within sight or sound of my whistle, which 

 he would answer with his own peculiar whistle that he had learned from us. 

 On the shed is the lunch-counter, which has been there for several years and 

 well patronized in winter by Chickadees, Nuthatches, Titmice, Juncos, Song 

 Sparrows, White-throats and others, also Blue Jays. There I put Tramp's 

 bathtub, hoping he would become so accustomed to the spot that he would 

 always know where to come for food. His coloring was not quite so brilliant, 

 nor his breast quite so white, as those of the wild birds. 



He was certainly cute, intelligent, and affectionate, and quite a revelation 

 as to what can be done with a young wild bird. We enjoyed his company for 

 over two months. Then, on the 19th of September, he at last felt the "Call of 

 the Wild." He flew out as usual in the morning, returning two or three times 

 to the room, took his bath on the shed, — and then disappeared — we hope with 

 his own kind — for some of the neighbors think they saw him with two other 

 Blue Jays the next day on our shed. This is the time "where ignorance is 

 bliss," as I will not consider the possibility of the cats. There is a short- 

 string tied on one leg, which was put there when he first came; so he kept it 

 clean just as he did his claws. 



Now the question: Is it not a doubtful kindness to raise a wild bird that 

 way; for we have no means of warning them against their natural enemies, 

 as the parent birds do; and, when they join their own kind, are they treated 

 well or not, and can they protect themselves? We can only hope for the best. 



