tried wings. They served him well and carried
him about fifty yards up-hill the first heat. The second day after, the
next in size and spirit left in the same manner; then another, till only
one remained. The parent birds ceased their visits to him, and for one
day he called and called till our ears were tired of the sound. His
was the faintest heart of all. Then he had none to encourage him from
behind. He left the nest and clung to the outer bowl of the tree, and
yelped and piped for an hour longer; then he committed himself to his
wings and went his way like the rest.
A young farmer in the western part of New York, who has a sharp,
discriminating eye, sends me some interesting notes about a tame
high-hole he once had.
"Did you ever notice," says he, "that the high-hole never eats anything
that he cannot pick up with his tongue? At least this was the case with
a young one I took from the nest and tamed. He could thrust out his
tongue two or three inches, and it was amusing to see his efforts to eat
currants from the hand. He would run out his tongue and try to stick it
to the currant; failing in that, he would bend his tongue around it like
a hook and try to raise it by a sudden jerk. But he never succeeded,
the round fruit would roll and slip away every time. He never seemed to
think of taking it in his beak. His tongue was in constant use to find
out the nature of everything he saw; a nail-hole in a board or any
similar hole was carefully explored. If he was held near the face he
would soon be attracted by the eye and thrust his tongue into it. In
this way he gained the respect of a number of half-grown cats that were
around the house. I wished to make them familiar to each other, so there
would be less danger of their killing him. So I would take them both on
my knee, when the bird would soon notice the kitten's eyes, and leveling
his bill as carefully as a marksman levels his rifle, he would remain so
a minute when he would dart his tongue into the cat's eye. This was held
by the cats to be very mysterious: being struck in the eye by something
invisible to them. They soon acquired such a terror of him that they
would avoid him and run away whenever they saw his bill turned in their
direction. He never would swallow a grasshopper even when it was placed
in his throat; he would shake himself until he had thrown it out of his
mouth. His 'best hold' was ants. He never was surprised at anything, and
never was afraid
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