MONSIEUR MISCHIEF 
already out of the nest, in the grass, and 
another was balancing his funny fat body on 
uncertain little legs just at the edge, ready 
for flight. I ran to the rescue, and picked 
up the baby in the grass. He was ungrate- 
ful, as were also the father and mother. 
With all his little strength he fought to be 
free, and the furious onslaught of the mother 
bird made me wish I had a hat on. As 
soon as placed in the nest, he was out again, 
wildly fluttering back to danger. In the 
mean time the other baby had flown so reck- 
lessly that he could nowhere be found. 
There was nothing for it but to capture 
the kitten and carry her away. This, after 
some coaxing, she allowed me to do. 
On returning to the catbirds, I found 
their troubles had increased, for a third had 
landed head downward in the rosebush 
where the thorns were thickest, and the 
branches one complete tangle. The bush 
was loath to give him up, but with hands, 
arms, and face scratched in the struggle, I 
finally extricated him, and placed him right 
217 
