THE RUBY-THROATED HUMMING-BIRD. 191 



meets with pleasure and with food. Its gorgeous throat in beauty and 

 brilliancy baffles all competition. Now it glows with a fiery hue, and again 

 it is changed to the deepest velvety black. The upper parts of its delicate 

 body are of resplendent changing green; and it throws itself through the air 

 with a swiftness and vivacity hardly conceivable. It moves from one flower 

 to another like a gleam of light, upwards, downwards, to the right, and to 

 the left. In this manner, it searches the extreme northern portions of our 

 country, following with great precaution the advances of the season, and 

 retreats with equal care at the approach of autumn. 



I wish it were in my power at this moment to impart to you, kind reader, 

 the pleasures which I have felt whilst watching the movements, and viewing 

 the manifestation of feelings displayed by a single pair of these most 

 favourite little creatures, when engaged in the demonstration of their love 

 to each other: — how the male swells his plumage and throat, and, dancing on 

 the wing, whirls around the delicate female; how quickly he dives towards 

 a flower, and returns with a loaded bill, which he offers to her to whom 

 alone he feels desirous of being united; how full of ecstacy he seems to be 

 when his caresses are kindly received; how his little wings fan her, as they 

 fan the flowers, and he transfers to her bill the insect and the honey which he 

 has procured with a view to please her; how these attentions are received 

 with apparent satisfaction; how, soon after, the blissful compact is sealed; 

 how, then, the courage and care of the male are redoubled; how he even 

 dares to give chase to the Tyrant Fly-catcher, hurries the Blue-bird and the 

 Martin to their boxes; and how, on sounding pinions, he joyously returns to 

 the side of his lovely mate. Reader, all these proofs of the sincerity, 

 fidelity, and courage, with which the male assures his mate of the care he 

 will take of her while sitting on her nest, may be seen, and have been seen, 

 but cannot be portrayed or described. 



Could you, kind reader, cast a momentary glance on the nest of the 

 Humming-bird, and see, as I have seen, the newly-hatched pair of young, 

 little larger than humble-bees, naked, blind, and so feeble as scarcely to be 

 able to raise their little bill to receive food from the parents; and could you 

 see those parents, full of anxiety and fear, passing and repassing within a few 

 inches of your face, alighting on a twig not more than a yard from your 

 body, waiting the result of your unwelcome visit in a state of the utmost 

 despair, — you could not fail to be impressed with the deepest pangs which 

 parental affection feels on the unexpected death of a cherished child. Then 

 how pleasing is it, on your leaving the spot, to see the returning hope of the 

 parents, when, after examining the nest, they find their nurslings untouched! 

 You might then judge how pleasing it is to a mother of another kind, to hear 

 the physician who has attended her sick child assure her that the crisis is 



