Five Little Waxwings and How They Grew 



By GEORGE G. PHILLIPS, Greene, R. I. 



INTO the lives of all of us come, at times, experiences that make their 

 mark and linger in our memories while we live. 

 The story I am about to tell is of just such an experience that came to 

 me; and, though I can hardly hope to create for others the pleasure that was 

 mine, I am sure that all true lovers of birds and babies who read this will 

 "know and understand." 



One day in the summer of 191 2 — it was July 15 — while seated at dinner, 

 I heard the cry of young birds. 



Stepping to my back door, I found on the doorstep two young and newly 

 fledged Cedar Waxwings. 



Presently, guided by their cries, I found three more nearby. 



Now, if it is a notable event to have one baby left on your doorstep, what 

 an embarrassment of riches was mine, who found five babies there at once! 



"Where did they come from?" was the first question asked. I never knew, 

 for neither old bird or nest had we ever seen or could we find. Undoubtedly, 

 they fluttered from a nest high up in the pine trees, a row of which stands near 

 my house. 



Thinking and hoping that the old birds would come to feed them, I left 

 them on the ground for an hour or two. But no parent bird ever came, and after 

 a while the mute appeal of those five gaping bills and yellow throats became 

 too much to bear, and I realized that something must be done, and done 

 quickly. 



"What do baby Waxwings eat?" was the burning question. The books 

 told of the parent bird feeding them by regurgitation. As that process did not 

 happen to be one of my accomplishments, I took a chance on ripe raspberries, 

 and was greatly relieved to find that they would eat them readily. I immedi- 

 ately filled them full, and from that time it was my daily and almost hourly 

 duty to feed those baby birds. 



The second day, I tried bread and milk. That went even better than the 

 berries, and was adopted for their regular food; though I venture to say that 

 never before did young Waxwings grow up on such a diet. 



One little fellow, smaller and weaker than the rest, handicapped from the 

 first, gave up his life on the second day. The other four grew and waxed 

 strong and beautiful; grew, oh, so rapidly! taking on from day to day the 

 exquisite coloring which so beautifully marks the adult bird. 



How much did we feed them? some one may ask. There need be no mis- 

 take on this point. I put the food in and pushed it down until they were full — 

 until I could see it. A pretty habit of theirs was, when full, to pass the prof- 

 fered morsel to a next neighbor, a bit of politeness characteristic of this gentle 

 and interesting bird. 



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