Little 
Bird Friends. 
(40) 
THE BIRD WORLD. 
Little Bird Friends. 
A History Rela-ted by Miss H. B. Rutt for Young 
Bird Lovers. 
(Continued from p. 169, Vol. I.) 
CHAPTER VII. 
MIDGET, TOTTIE, AND SCRAP, 
A TRIO OF WAXBILLS. 
I must tell you about these tiny birds 
together, as, although they live in the 
cage with the larger birds, they keep 
themselves quite apart. There are 
several kinds of Waxbills. Midget and 
Tottie are Avadavats, and Scrap is an 
Orange-breasted Waxbill. I will tell 
you about the Avadavats first. They 
are very, very small—smaller than our 
Golden-crested Wren. I have had these 
a good many years, and they are both 
very old now. Tottie, especially, is so 
aged that she has turned almost white, 
at least her wings have, and it gives her 
a very peculiar appearance. These 
Jittle birds are seldom separated, as when 
resting on the perches they are always 
pressed close together. I have seen 
cages with twenty or thirty of them for 
sale, sitting in one long row on a perch, 
all squeezed together as tightly as 
possible. Midget is a very handsome 
little fellow, or was in his youth; he is 
rather shabby now. He has dark 
brown, almost black, feathers, closely 
mixed all over with bright red ones, and 
over all are dotted small white spots, as 
if he had been splashed with whitewash. 
Red beak and red legs, and very bright, 
small ruby eyes. His little wife, Tottie, 
is much more soberly coloured. Nearly 
all grey, with red beak and legs. She, 
too, has lost her youthful beauty, but 
they are both very happy and quite well. 
Serap-, the Tiniest . 
Scrap, as I said, is quite another kind 
of Waxbill. He is still smaller, and 1 
think I am right in saying that he is the 
tiniest bird that there is, except the 
Humming Birds. The upper part of his 
body is dark green, and his breast a 
lovely yellow and orange. He has, too, 
an orange streak over each eye like a 
large eyebrow. How wonderfully small 
his bones must be, and his little head, if 
we could see them without the feathers! 
And yet these mites come all the way 
from Africa, and though I am afraid 
many must die on the voyage, a ,reat 
many manage to live and enjoy good 
health for several years in this cold, 
damp country of ours. Scrap is in 
beautiful plumage. He is not so old as 
the Avadavats, but I have had them all 
a good many years. Scrap had at first 
a wife, to whom he was devoted. Her 
name was Tiny. They all lived to¬ 
gether then in a small cage. Each 
couple had its own rush nest, and they 
were quite friendly, but not on visiting 
terms. They never by any chance went 
into each other’s houses. About three 
years ago Tiny died, and for two days 
Scrap was inconsolable. He was abso¬ 
lutely miserable. He was so cold, even 
in the nest all by himself, and I thought 
he would die too. But on the third 
day Midget and Tottie, after putting 
their heads together, made him a little 
speech. “ Scrap,” they said, “ you can¬ 
not have your wife back again, and we 
can see you are miserable. Let us be a 
trio, as we can no longer be two pairs. 
There is plenty of room in our nest for 
three.” Of course Scrap accepted their 
kind and generous offer, and they became 
a trio, and have been one ever since. 
But “ plenty of room ! ” They could 
just squeeze in with the greatest care. 
They always, of course, get into the nest 
head first, then they all have to turn 
round, as they like to sit looking out of 
the door. Well, they said they were 
“nice and warm.” I should think they 
must have been I 
One Bird with Three Heads. 
When they were moved into Chateau 
Chez-les-Oiseaux they felt rather strange 
