THE OX-EYE DAISY. 
41 
And then the young Robins, Bluebirds and Orioles which 
tumbled from the nest, or were blown out or thrown out— 
they are not so lovable before the feathers come, when they 
are all legs and beak and stomach, with a wobbly neck to 
hold them together, but when they first start out to blun¬ 
der about the world, they are exasperatingly witching. I 
remember a baby Catbird who fell behind a large box, 
where he cried lustily for help, and who, when I fished 
him out, clung to my finger as if it were a-live wire and 
he could not let go. The old birds flew about with frantic 
cries to him of his danger, but he only clung the tighter. 
And the Chickadees—two succeeding winters I saw one 
drop from a tree to th*e snow, where lay struggling convul¬ 
sively for a moment and then became quiet. When I 
brought them in the house—fearing they would freeze—it 
was bitterly cold—they seemed dead, and it was fully five 
minutes before they revived. I have never understood it, 
what ailed them,' but I do know T that of all “ birds in the 
hand,” this little “feathered atom defying death” is— 
well! he makes me wild with delight! 
The Ox-eye Daisy. 
BY SUSY C. FOGG. 
kike the English sparrow (Passer domesticus) and the 
Cabbage butterfly (Pieris rapae) there has come to us from 
European .shores, and probably earlier to that continent 
from Asia, a pretty weed called Chrysanthemum Eeucan- 
themum, or, in common parlance, the Ox-eye daisyq the 
word daisy being the well-known corruption of the Anglo- 
Saxon dseges-eage, day’s eye, which is of more than usual 
fitness, since at nightfall, or on the approach of stormy 
weather, the ring of white ray florets closes gently over the 
yellow eye, and the flower is fallen asleep. 
