whenever the bringer of supplies drew near,
each little one hastened to scramble back to the nest, to be ready for
his share. The last day in the old home had now arrived. One by one the
birdlings flew to the maple, and turned their backs on their native tree
forever; and that night the "mournful tree" was entirely deserted.

The exit was not accomplished without its excitement. After tea, as I
was congratulating myself that they were all safely out in the world,
without accident, suddenly there arose a terrible outcry, robin and blue
jay voices in chorus. I looked over to the scene of the fray, and saw a
young jay on the ground, and the parents frantic with anxiety.
Naturally, my first impulse was to go to their aid, and I started; but I
was saluted with a volley of squawks that warned me not to interfere. I
retired meekly, leaving the birds to deal with the difficulty as they
best could, while from afar I watched the little fellow as he scrambled
around in the grass. He tried to fly, but could not rise more than two
feet. Both the elders were with him, but seemed unable to help him, and
night was coming on. I resolved, finally, to "take my life in my hands,"
brave those unreasoning parents, and place the infant out of the way of
cats and boys.

As I reached the doorstep I saw that the youngster had begun to climb
the trunk of a locust-tree. I stood in amazement and saw that baby climb
six feet straight up the trunk. He did it by flying a few inches,
clinging to the bark and resting, then flying a few inches more. I
watched, breathless, till he got nearly to the lowest branch, when alas!
his strength or his courage gave out, and he fell back to the ground.
But he pulled himself together, and after a few minutes more of
struggling through the grass he came to the trunk of the maple next his
native pine. Up this he went in the same way, till he reached a branch,
where I saw him sitting with all the dignity of a young jay (old jays
have no dignity). While he was wrestling with fate and his life was in
the balance, the parents had kept near him and perfectly silent, unless
some one came near, when they filled the air with squawks, and appeared
so savage that I honestly believe they would have attacked any one who
had tried to lend a hand.

But still the little blue-coat had not learned sufficient modesty of
endeavor, for the next morning he found himself again in the grass. He
tried climbing, but unfortunately selected a