Little 
Bird Friends. 
(122) 
THE BIRD WORLD. 
Little Bird Frierxds. 
A History Related by Miss H. B. Rutt for Young 
Bird Lovers. 
(1 Continued from p . 77.) 
CHAPTER IX. 
“ TWINEY. ’ 
THE RED-BEAKED WEAVER. 
This is a bird that I have had for 
several years, and he thoroughly appre¬ 
ciated the new large home. He only 
wears his bright colours in the summer, 
and except for his red beak and pinkish 
legs, looks in the winter something like 
a Sparrow. But in the spring he be¬ 
comes a very handsome bird. His beak 
is like sealing-wax, his face like black 
velvet, and head and breast a lovely 
pinky colour. As to his intelligence— 
well, we cannot all be equally clever, 
but except for the one talent from which 
he gets his name, he is, without excep¬ 
tion, the most stupid bird I ever saw in 
my life. I have known a good many 
very foolish, almost idiotic hen Canaries, 
but “ Twiney ” beats them all. He is very 
fond of an insect now and then, but it 
is indeed a most rare event for him to 
get one. 
Although his eyesight is as good as 
anyone else’s, he is so terribly stupid 
that he always looks for one in the 
wrong place. It only needs the sight 
of an insect, or even the tin in which I 
collect them, to make “ Lapis Lazuli ” 
and one or two of my other birds cry out 
in ecstasy (either aloud or to themselves), 
“ Grasshoppers ! Spiders ! Hurrah ! ” 
and down they rush in their eagerness 
to secure a prize. “ Twiney ” comes down 
leisurely, and sees “ Lapis Lazuli ” eat¬ 
ing a spider. His one idea is to snatch it 
from him, or humbly to finish up any 
bits he may let drop; while all the time 
another fat spider, that he might have 
had all to himself, is walking off in the 
opposite direction. When the baths are 
hung on “ Twiney ” will just hang about, 
unable to make up his mind to hop in, 
until one of the other birds is splashing 
away, enjoying himself thoroughly, and 
then “ Twiney ” will worry him and spoil 
his bath, only to dawdle and hang about 
again. Certainly, he has a most vacant 
mind. 
A Lover of Worsted. 
But he is a Weaver, and here it is 
that his one talent shows itself. He 
prefers, I think, a needleful of darning 
worsted—it is so soft and easily 
managed; but he can also work with 
stalks of grass, or narrow strips 
of bass, the stuff that gardeners tie 
up carnations with. He twists it in 
and out among the small branches. But 
prettiest of all is the way he weaves it 
in and out of the wires of the cage. It 
is, of course, all done with the beak. 
He pokes a bit through, then puts his 
beak through the next space, pulls it 
back again, then through the next, and 
so on. Then he works the other way 
back, so that it is just like fine, tight 
basket-work. No end must ever be 
visible; it is tucked neatly in. Some¬ 
times this is very difficult to do, especi¬ 
ally if he is working with bass. I have 
seen him go back two or three times, 
when not quite satisfied, until all is 
absolutely neat. 
“ Twiney ” would be very much hurt if 
I do not tell you about his singing. Well, 
I will tell you what I think about it, 
but I am far too polite to let him know. 
His voice has only two notes in it—very 
loud indeed, really ear-piercing, and ex¬ 
traordinarily harsh. During the summer 
he is indulging in this “ music ” nearly 
