16 LHE AUDUBON BU L Digi 
climbed over everything and looked around as lord of all he surveyed. 
When I put him back in his cage, he would permit himself to be carried 
on my finger but showed resentment by gently pecking that finger. Back 
at school Rusty had the run of one end of a long table in front of the 
windows. He bathed vigorously and ate well. We had to keep him from 
the little canary which also had its freedom for he showed plainly that 
two birds around were one too many in his estimation. He distinctly 
recognized me among all the others he saw as I was the one who provided 
his needs. His knowing me was so evident that it touched me considerably. 
I sacrificed good Cecropia cocoons to give him an extra tid-bit. My associa- 
tion with Rusty has given me an appreciation of blackbirds in general. 
I like them for their intelligence, adaptability and aggressiveness. 
The robin would perch in front of the window most of the day. He too 
would bathe very vigorously. Among the foods he ate were meal worms. 
He looked them over so thoroughly before eating that if the fox sparrow 
was at hand they disappeared down the latter’s throat. I never realized 
before how insectivorous a seed-eater can be. The cheerful notes of the 
robin’s song were heard from time to time. We hoped his singing signified 
that we were giving him good care. 
The fox sparrow was a nervous little fellow, hopping about constantly, 
never still a minute. He too had his freedom all day long. At times he 
would get on the floor, but in short order we developed a technique for 
getting him back to the table. I would slowly approach with my chair. He 
would hop to the lowest rung, after which I would slowly lift the chair 
and he would hop off at the proper “floor.” At the end of the day we felt 
it necessary to cage him. Three different cages we gave him, each one a 
little roomier than the preceding. It took him only a few evenings of gentle 
coaxing to teach him to enter his new home. We never took hold of him 
to put him in. 
The crow, Jim, was not an injured bird. A pupil with a strong desire 
for a pet crow had located a nest, climbed the tree and fulfilled his wish — 
later bringing the bird to school. Jim was too big for any cage at our 
disposal. We had to let him have exercise during the day. His wing's were 
clipped. He walked from table to table, grabbing yellow pencils, breaking 
off their points, and destroying the whole thing if given a minute or two to 
work at it. He was any boy’s excuse not to work. After some amount of 
destruction the bird was not always a welcome visitor. When fed green 
peas he would hide them under a paper or in a brief case. In eating them 
he always removed the seed coat. We gave Jim his bathing water when 
we went out for lunch. He splashed water half way across the room. We 
wiped up the tables upon returning. Jim hated to be put into his cage at 
the end of the day. I think he never forgave me for helping to incarcerate 
him a number of times. I soon decided he was intelligent enough to go to 
his roost himself, so we placed my chair beside his cage and guided him over 
to it. He would hop to the seat, then to the back, and in, of course under 
protest. When summer came we sent him home with one of the teachers, 
where he continued his roguish tricks. 
Chicago, Illinois. 
