OUR HOME BIRDS. 
183 
revive for a few moments ; then throw hack the pretty 
head, or toss it to and fro as if in great suffering, ex- 
pand the wings, open the eyes, slightly puff up the 
feathers of the breast, and die, usually without any 
convulsive struggle/ ” 
“ I’m glad it went,” said Malcolm suddenly, re- 
ferring to the bird that had flown. This account was 
almost more than he could endure. 
“ The nest of a hummiug-bird,” said Miss Harson, 
“was once taken when the young ones were about 
fifteen or twenty days old, and placed in a cage in a 
chamber window, to which the parent-birds came 
regularly every hour in the day and fed their brood. 
Soon they became so tame that they stayed alto- 
gether, taking up their residence from pure choice 
with their little ones. All four would come and 
perch on their master’s hand, chirruping as in a state 
of freedom. They were fed with a fine clear paste 
made of biscuit, sugar, and wine. They thrust 
their tongues into this compound until they had had 
enough, and then they fluttered and chirruped about 
the room. It was a beautiful sight to see the tiny, 
brilliant creatures flying in and out as they pleased, 
but obeying the voice of their master whenever he 
called them. They lived in this way for more than 
six months ; and just when their owner expected to 
see a new colony, he unfortunately forgot to tie up 
