MY HUMMING BIEDS. 



and had come straight to its old home for food and lore. My 

 sister burst into tears and screams of joyous laughter, and as to 

 what ridiculous capers I might have been guilty of, I cannot tell— 

 I only remember the self-contented and philosophical manner in 

 which the returned pilgrim continued to plume its storm-ruffled 

 feathers, uttering now and then the old chirps on the side of that 

 cup— which position it continued to retain until we bore him on 

 it to his new house, of which he assumed possession with a re- 

 markably matter-of-fact, or rather matter-of-course, air. 



About a week after this, while walking in the garden one morning, 

 I observed two Humming Birds engaged in chasing each other in 

 a very coy and loving manner. Something in the tame and con- 

 fident manner of one of them made me suspect it was our bird 

 engaged in making love. I went back for the white cup, and this 

 time, too, its magic proved itself invincible— for both birds came 

 without hesitation and settled upon the rim — the one which took 

 the long and eager draught, as if perishing of fatigue and hunger, 

 proved to be the female that had just arrived. It was a little larger 

 than the male, and seemed at first somewhat shyer than he, though a 

 few days were sufficient to make all right as ever between us again. 

 How strange and incomprehensible it seemed to us— the acuteness 

 of senses — the strength of memory and affection — the weird saga- 

 city, in a word— that could have brought these tiny creatures back 

 to us, from so many thousand miles away, straight as the arrow from 

 the bow. I have never ceased wondering at that strange incident — 

 but there is one yet quite as droll to come. The love-season had 

 now fully commenced, and our birds began to be absent for several 

 hours together, and we observed that at these times they darted 

 straight up into the air, until they were out of sight before they 

 took their course, so that watch as we might we never could find 

 out which way they went. They also adopted the same precaution 

 in returning, when they seemed to fall perpendicularly from the 

 clouds. They did not appear any the less tame for all this — hut, 

 though I tried in every possible way to find out their secret, yet 

 they entirely baffled me, and I am not sure that I ever saw their 

 brood even— though about the time when they ought to have been 

 out, we used to notice more birds than we could well account for 

 around the white cup in the cage; yet, as those strangers appeared 

 to be somewhat shy, we did not press an acquaintance. It was 

 nothing more than conjecture on our part, that these were the new 

 brood of our pets. 



But I am getting a little ahead of my story in events. I have 

 mentioned that we had vowed to have a nest of Ruby-throats added 

 to our collection this spring, and in giving a detail of the manner in 

 which I went to work for the accomplishment of this vow, I shall 



