BATHS IN THE CATBIRD'S GARDEN. 



It was afternoon in the Catbird's gar- 

 den. By right of possession it always 

 riad been the Catbird's garden, since for 

 years without number she and her song- 

 ful mate, their children and their grand- 

 children had dominated its precincts. 

 They were life tenants, and seemed as 

 much a part of the household as Tilly, 

 the Maltese cat, who appeared to recog- 

 nize their rights and was apparently on 

 rather good terms with them. True, she 

 had one time climbed the old apple tree 

 and brought down, first one young Cat- 

 bird, then another, and finally the nest 

 — but that was in her young days, long 

 ago, just about the time that her mis- 

 tress joined the bird club. A summer 

 yellow-bird had once domiciled herself in 

 the apple tree and Mistress Catbird 

 doubtless had to make it quite unpleasant 

 for her before the intruder saw matters 

 aright and moved her half-completed 

 nest piecemeal into a friendlier neighbor- 

 hood. 



Various afternoon toilets were now in 

 progress in the garden. A fat robin, his 

 large wings wide-spread, rested flat on 

 the grass against his red breast, with his 

 broad back to the warm sunlight. The 

 Catbird approached the half-empty 

 crock of water beneath the sassa- 

 fras, took a few meditative sips and 

 then stepped into it. Robin's back 

 was turned that way, but he quickly 

 hopped to his long legs and ran 

 hurriedly toward the Catbird, who 

 retired into the tree as if recognizing a 

 superior foe. The selfish robin, who ap- 

 peared desirous of tyrannizing over both 

 ivater and sunshine, stood by the pool 

 and drank a few drops before going 

 worm-hunting into the back garden. 

 From the grapevine came the cardinal 

 and took a good bath, splashing the wa- 

 ter recklessly high. While he bathed a 

 tiny gray chickadee hung about and fin- 

 ally ventured upon a switch overhanging 

 the water, which he eyed longingly. He 



was now in range of the cardinal's 

 splashings, and there the cunning little 

 fellow perched and obtained a surrepti- 

 tious bath. Every time the cardinal 

 splashed chickadee fluttered his wings 

 and in course of time was as wet as his 

 heart could desire, nor did the good-na- 

 tured cardinal seem to mind his compan- 

 ionship. 



A second robin, marked "young" by 

 the motley unfinish of his coppery vest, 

 flattened his body on a limb close to the 

 other pan high in "Little Phil's willow." 

 On either side an English sparrow stub- 

 bornly attended him, boldly curious and 

 determined. Dame Catbird, too, in her 

 new fall suit of very light grey, stepped 

 close to the water and stood in it a sec- 

 ond, but the proximity of the robin and 

 the sparrows was annoying to her and 

 she vanished. Then the robin suddenly 

 plumped into the water. He looked 

 keenly about before giving a tremendous 

 splash which made the unmannerly spar- 

 rows retreat to a dry distance. After 

 the splash he stretched his neck out until 

 he looked akin to a snake as if still ap- 

 prehending danger. Then a number of 

 vigorous splashes ensued. He was noth- 

 ing if not thorough, and if such as he 

 visited the pan often its half-empty state 

 was explained. 



When he at last emerged he was a 

 sorry-looking image of a bird, with his 

 feathers clinging close to his dripping 

 frame, but he hopped up to a sunny spot 

 in the willow and there preened and 

 straightened out his coat industriously. 

 He knew just how to do it, opening one 

 wing with a hearty shake, then another, 

 then his tail. After shaking himself all 

 over he dug his bill deep into his breast 

 feathers many times, combing and ar- 

 ranging them deftly, and wiping the 

 moisture from his bill against a twig. 

 His toilet lasted long enough to be 

 wearying, and, in accord with hygienic 

 rules, he either fell into a quiet day-dream 



36 



