“a bird in the hand.” 
39 
see the most gorgeous of all our summer residents, with 
body glowing like a coal of fire against the green of the 
pines. This is the Scarlet Tanager, formerly more abun¬ 
dant in the taxidermist’s shop than in the woods ; now, 
thanks to the awakening of human sympathy, allowed to 
dwell unmolested in this part of the world. The call of 
the Tanager is very characteristic—just the two syllables, 
“ chip—cher-r-r.” 
When one knows these four kinds by the plumage alone, 
he has made a step in the direction of bird acquaintance ; 
when he knows them by the song alone, he has progressed 
a long way and may be confident of achieving any success 
he may desire in the line of bird study. 
“A Bird in the Hand.” 
BY DOROTHY MAY. 
A bird had fallen ill, and, seeking to escape the boister¬ 
ous playfulness of her healthy fellows, alighted fora second 
upon my wrist. Then I watched her with a throb of pity 
as, following the sure instinct of all sick or wounded life 
to hide itself in its suffering, she flew slowly to a sheltered 
corner. But, oh! the touch of those little feet upon my 
wrist! How it set my heart a-thrill ! Nothing is so fas¬ 
cinating, nothing so stirs the springs of tenderness, unless 
it be the clasp of a baby’s tiny fingers. 
I fell to thinking of other times when I had experienced 
that witchery of “ a bird in the hand.” Twice it was a 
Humming-bird; and both times, led by its pitiful cry, I 
found it tangled in the web of a gorgeous yellow and black 
garden spider, who was looking in dismay at the complete 
ruin of its home, with the pretty zigzag of white silk in the 
center. She never bargained for such a big bug. It was 
