pest that had laid waste many a home, 

 felled many a giant tree, and swept a 

 path of destruction all about us. 



After the parent birds had fed them 

 untiringly several weeks we heard one 

 afternoon a great commotion. The two 

 young birds stood on the floor in the 

 front of the cage, and the old ones faced 

 them on a near limb. The bird tones and 

 bird motions were almost humanly intel- 

 ligible. First a series of coaxings in the 

 sweetest tones the parents could utter, as 

 they fluttered their wings, and tried every 

 inducement bird language was capable of 

 to the little ones to come out and follow 

 them. Then, a reasoning with deliberate 

 note and infinite patience, broken now and 

 then by a sweet coaxing from the mother- 

 bird. The little ones, meanwhile, watched 

 them unconcernedly, with only an occa- 

 sional flutter of tiny wings. Finally, the 

 old birds broke into a storm of upbraid- 

 ing, scolding and protesting, and then 

 flew away, returning an instant after for 

 a last persuasive twitter, and then de- 

 parted on their long southern journey. 



The young birds apparently never 

 missed them ; they had become so accus- 

 tomed to feeding themselves that they 

 took up housekeeping on their own re- 

 sponsibility without the least trouble. 

 They were now transferred to a larger 

 cage and hung in the south porch, and 

 then given their first bath. Such a splash- 

 ing and spattering and ducking followed ! 

 After their daily bath the cage was 

 cleaned and food and drinking water put 

 in. Earthworms were given once a day, 

 and everything else from berries to a 

 fresh cabbage leaf. The glimpse of a 

 slice of melon put them in a perfect quiver 

 of expectancy, and they fairly danced at 

 the sight of berries. They soon became 

 so tame that they would eat flies from the 

 children's fingers, and "kiss" them when 

 a ripe berry was held between the lips. 

 We waited patiently for the first note of 

 song, and one day overheard a soft musi- 

 cal gurgle and looked up to see one of 

 them standing with its head on one side, 

 and gazing at the other with such an air 



of obvious wonderment as to where the 

 noise came from, that it was laughable. 

 It was very amusing to see them when 

 first put out in the morning sunshine. 

 They would stand on one foot, lean over 

 so far as almost to lose their balance, 

 stretch out one wing in a peculiarly help- 

 less way, and open their bills to the widest 

 extent. After a moment or so they would 

 repeat the operation, standing on the 

 other foot. Their aim was doubtless to 

 warm the entire body, but anything more 

 ludicrously idiotic than their appearance 

 would be impossible to imagine. 



And now comes the strange, but too 

 true, part of this little sketch. Our birds 

 were full grown, full fledged, perfectly 

 bright and very active and playful. 

 Owing to probably the almost entire lack 

 of fruit in our section, all our wild birds 

 disappeared full two months before their 

 usual time ; and not even a solitary robin 

 was to be seen. One afternoon a few 

 weeks after the departure of the parent 

 birds, one old Catbird was discovered in 

 a tree over the south porch, and facing the 

 birdlings' cage. It made no motion to 

 come near them, and seemingly paid no 

 attention to them, and flew away in a 

 short while. The next morning at sun- 

 rise one of our birds sat drooping upon 

 the perch, and died before noon. Two 

 days after, the other died, in spite of all 

 our efforts to save it. The old bird was 

 seen but the once, and no one could solve 

 the problem of their strange death; but 

 the appearance of that one bird, and the 

 deaths so closely following it, increased 

 the mystery. Certainly, if it was the par- 

 ent bird that returned after so long a 

 time, and, unable to leave her little ones 

 captive, it showed a marvellous power of 

 reasoning and mother-love that it would 

 be a burlesque to call instinct. Who shall 

 say that the heroic mother-love that led 

 mothers of old to slay their children with 

 their own hands, rather than see them 

 live enslaved and dishonored, did not beat 

 in the breast of this one of God's little 

 ''sparrows?" 



S. Frances Gilbreath Ingersoll. 



37 



