sparrow throats. The surprise and the solemn stare with which he
"could hardly believe his eyes" were exceedingly droll. After a while he
saw through their little game, and took to watching, and when a sparrow
appeared too much interested in his operations, he made a feint of going
for him, which warned the gamin that he would better look out for
himself.

It did not take these sharp fellows long to discover that the young
redbird was the easier prey, and soon every youngster on the ground was
attended by a sparrow or two, ready to seize upon any fragment that
fell. The parent's way of feeding was to shell a kernel and then give it
to one of the little ones, who broke it up and ate it. From waiting for
fallen bits, the sparrows, never being repulsed, grew bolder, and
finally went so far as actually to snatch the corn out of the young
cardinals' beaks. Again and again did I see this performance: a sparrow
grab and run (or fly), leaving the baby astonished and dazed, looking
as if he did not know exactly what had happened, but sure he was in some
way bereaved.

One day, while the cardinal family were eating on the grass, the mother
of the brood came to a tree near by. At once her gallant spouse flew up
there and offered her the mouthful he had just prepared, then returned
to his duties. She was rarely seen on the lawn, and I judged that she
was sitting again.

Sometimes, when the youngsters were alone on the ground, I heard a
little snatch of song, two or three notes, a musical word or two of very
sweet quality. The woodpecker, autocrat though he assumed to be, did not
at first interfere with the young birds; but as they became more and
more independent and grown up, he began to consider them fair game, and
to come down on them with a rush that scattered them; not far, however;
they were brave little fellows.

At last, after four weeks of close attention, the cardinal made up his
mind that his young folk were babies no longer, and that they were able
to feed themselves. I was interested to see his manner of intimating to
his young hopefuls that they had reached their majority. When one begged
of him, in his gentle way, the parent turned suddenly and gave him a
slight push. The urchin understood, and moved a little farther off; but
perhaps the next time he asked he would be fed. They learned the lesson,
however, and in less than two days from the first hint they became
almost entirely independent.

One morning the w