, and the Golden-wing kept up the strange exhibition
for some time.

I became greatly attached to my beautiful bird, which appeared, in the
presence of his wise and wary room-mates, cat-birds and thrushes, like a
big, clumsy, but affectionate baby. It was solely on his account and
principally, I must confess, to try and surprise a wild bird at the
above described entertainment so as to determine its character, that I
wished to make acquaintance with its free relations, study their ways
when at liberty in their own haunts, and have a glimpse if possible of
the Golden-wing babies.

A year later I had the opportunity I so much desired of making
acquaintance with the young of this family. I was sitting one morning on
the edge of a deep ravine filled with trees, deeply engaged in the study
of another bird, when suddenly a stranger came with an awkward flop
against the trunk of a tree not ten feet from me. I saw in an instant
that it was the infant I had looked for so long. He was exactly like the
parents, with a somewhat shorter tail. I should hardly have suspected
his youthfulness but for his clumsy movements, and the fact that he did
not at once take flight, which a Golden-wing more experienced in the
ways of human-kind would have done instantly. He seemed somewhat
exhausted by his flight, and clung to the trunk, with soft dark eyes
fixed upon me, ready to move if I did.

I did not; I sat motionless for half an hour and watched him. When
somewhat rested he dodged around the other side of the trunk, and peeped
at me through a fork in the branches. Then he scrambled upon a small
branch, where he perched crosswise. But he had trouble to keep his
balance in that position, so he climbed about till he found a limb fully
two inches in diameter, on which he could rest in the favorite flicker
attitude--lengthwise. Then with his head outward to the world at large,
and his tail turned indifferently toward me,--whom he doubtless regarded
as a permanent and lifeless feature of the landscape,--he settled
himself, crouched flat against the bark, for a comfortable nap.

All this time I had been conscious of low Golden-wing talk about me; the
familiar "wick-up! wick-up!" almost in a whisper, a softened "pe-auk!"
from the ravine, and the more distant "laugh," so called. The infant on
the tree heard too. He moved his head, listened and looked, but whether
or not they were words of caution and advice from the wiser ones of his
race, he re