390 Bird - Lore 



I put a soft old table napkin in for a nest, and it was laughable to see him 

 drag it out and bring it to the edge of the shelf, give it a good shaking, and 

 then drag it back into the box again, just as though he was making up his 

 bed. Father and he got to be the greatest kind of friends. His room was 

 Buzz Fuzz' favorite place to stay. He would play with the things on his 

 writing-table for hours at a time, dragging the pens, pencils, etc., from one 

 place to another. A rubber band was another favorite plaything and a little 

 tum-tum drum, also a little whisk-broom holder on the wall. He would sit 

 up in it, then go down head first and fly from one thing to another, just like 

 a little shaver in mischief. He got so he would not eat anything unless it was 

 put on the dresser in Father's room. When he was hungry, he would fly to 

 the screen door and ask to go in just as plainly as a bird possibly could do. 

 When the door was opened, he would fly to the dresser for something to eat. 

 One night I was giving him a drink from a little punch cup, and he kept put- 

 ting his head into it. I said: "Look at Buzz Fuzz, he acts as though he wanted 

 to take a bath." "I did't suppose an Owl ever took a bath, did you?" "No," 

 said Father, "but give him some water and see if he will take a bath." So I set 

 the washbowl on the floor and put some water in it, and he flew on the bowl 

 and hopped down into the water and ducked his head, flapped his wings, and 

 threw the water all over the carpet. After that, he had a bowl of water every 

 day, and got to be a veritable Englishman about his bath. We were all very 

 fond of him, and he seemed to be very affectionate. When Father was read- 

 ing his paper Buzz Fuzz would sit on the back of his chair and play with his 

 hair and pull his ears for an hour at a time; then he would crawl under his 

 coat and go to sleep. Early in the morning, just as it was getting light, he 

 would come into my room and come up to the bed and make a funny squeak- 

 ing noise. I would take him up and put him under the covers, and he would 

 lie down on his side, stretch out and go to sleep, almost like a little human. 

 It seemed as though he thought that if he was going to leave bird-land 

 and live with people, he would try to be just as nearly like people as he pos- 

 sibly could. Another favorite trick of his was hiding. He knew his name just 

 as well as we did, and when we could call: "Buzzy, Buzzy, Buzz Fuzz," he 

 would not answer; but, after we had looked all around for him, he would call 

 and there he would be in the top of the hanging lamp, way up to the ceiling 

 in the part that coils the chain, or behind a picture or under some piece of 

 furniture. He would look as mischievous as though he knew he had fooled 

 us. He was quite a bird now, with soft gray feathers, very prettily marked, 

 and with little horns on his head. Sometimes, if things did not go just to 

 suit him, he would get quite angry, and scold and snap his eyes, but never 

 tried to bite. He was the pet of the family and very sad were we when he left 

 us. One day he commenced to droop and did not look like himself. For 

 two or three days he sat around and would not fly or eat. I took him up and 

 found that his wings were sore. He was in the habit of playing around the 



