(hie UU EO NB ULE EIN 9 
A Feathered Patient 
T was in the early summer. My little friend, Astrid Breasted, tele- 
phoned for me; she was distressed. A robin had been caught by its 
leg in some string high up in a poplar tree in front of her home on 
University Avenue. The bird may have carried the string there for 
building material; it may have been an old kite string lost there; but 
that’s anyone’s guess. Her brother had climbed the tree and released 
it and I was asked to come and “‘set’”’ a broken leg. I first phoned Mr. 
Schantz for advice and instructions, never having had such a patient 
before. He teased me and thought that one who could set a human brok- 
en leg ought to be able to do as much for a robin. So I set out with some 
tooth picks and adhesive tape. However, I found that the poor patient 
had more than a simple broken leg; the joint that ornithologists called 
the heel, where the fleshy part meets the spindly part, was so torn that 
it held only by a tiny strip of skin. It was quite beyond repair and so 
had to be an amputation. The operation was done with one of Pro- 
fessor Breasted’s safety razor blades. 
Now what to do with the victim? I felt sure it would die in captivity; 
so we set out for the Wooded Island in Jackson Park, some distance 
away, with Astrid and her family and friends, enough to fill the auto. 
It was released about twilight on the open grass where no cats prowl 
and with a prayer from all of us that the poor, maimed leg might heal 
and life be still worth while, and we went home regretting that we would 
never know the result, death or recovery. But that was where we all 
guessed wrong, for a few weeks later the one-legged robin was back in 
the tree where the mishap occurred, taking its part in the building of 
a nest. Having decided that that was a good tree in which to build, 
the decision was not to be affected by a little matter like the loss 
of a leg. James W. Wacker, M. D. 
The Cardinal’s Disposition 
T is a singular fact that some traits of human nature are shown in 
the activities of bird life. Take our scarce but handsome Kentucky 
Cardinal for instance. During the mating season he is an exemplary 
husband, allowing his wife to sit at the same table and partake of its 
edibles in peace, and when she happens to be resting in a nearby tree he 
often carries a sun-flower seed to her, daintily placing it in her beak. 
But when the mating season is passed he becomes a crusty old bachelor 
and is to dine alone. If Mrs. Cardinal is occupying the table when he 
arrives, he drives her away. She later eats hisleavings. W.C. Ecan. 
