2 43 
Vo l' Bruce, A Month with the Goldfinches. 
1090 J 
every morning before breakfast, expecting each day to find my 
birdlings flown, but it was not until the sixteenth day that the 
event occurred for which I had been waiting. 
On this morning I was more grieved than surprised to find only 
two little birds left in the nest. I spent the entire morning in the 
orchard, waiting to see the remaining birdlings take flight. It 
seemed to be the policy of the parents to induce them to come 
out for something to eat, for they were not once fed during this 
time. I offered them morsels of egg, but they paid little heed to 
me. They were restless, and I saw that the old home and old 
friends had lost all charm for them. Suddenly while I watched, 
one of the two birdlings scrambled onto the edge of the nest, 
balanced himself for a moment, and then flew straight into the 
nearest apple tree. From this vantage ground he looked down 
into the tiny pear tree home that had once seemed all the world to 
him, and called back to his little brother that he had found a 
larger and greener world than that. The baby in the nest seemed 
half inclined to follow him, but at each attempt after much flutter- 
ing of the wings he would slip back into the old place. Presently 
the mother came with a morsel of food for the brave little bird in 
the tree, but no attention was paid to the pleading cry of his lazy 
brother, and very soon the venturesome young one found the use 
of his wings so pleasant and the food she offered him so tempting 
that he followed her across the orchard into the fields beyond. 
On my afternoon visit the poor little coward was still in the 
nest, apparently very hungry and teasing incessantly. He may 
have thought that he was forgotten, — and I confess that I had 
fears of this myself, — when late in the afternoon, brighter than a 
gleam of sunshine, doubtless, to the waiting bird, came the father 
to the nest. Only this encouragement was needed, the little fellow 
was not to be left alone again ; in a moment he was standing on 
a tiny twig above the nest, there was another moment of balanc- 
ing and indecision, and then taking heart he too flew across to 
the friendly apple tree. He was rewarded by the instant appear- 
ance of his mother who had doubtless waited for this evidence of 
courage on the part of her youngest darling. She first gave him 
a hearty meal, and then flew from tree to tree towards the fields 
beyond. My birdling followed her in pretty, undulating, Gold- 
finch fashion, and I was left alone in the orchard. 
