frequent the perch that ran out of the cage--the
doorstep in fact. Finding that he was not disturbed, he soon moved his
quarters just inside the door. Most birds quickly resent the intrusion
of another into their cage, but the tanager never did. So long as he was
left alone on his favorite upper perches, he did not care who went in
below. This being the case, after a while the goldfinch ventured upon
the middle perch. Still he was not noticed; but presuming on the
friendly attitude of his host, he one day hopped upon the perch beside
him. This was a step too far; the house-owner turned an open beak toward
him, and in unmistakable tones told him to leave--which he at once did,
of course.

This boundary made by the tanager was never changed, but in the rest of
the cage the goldfinch made himself at home, and at once assumed the
position of protector. Seeing that the owner did not,--and sure it was
somebody's duty,--he began to guard the door, warning away any one who
wished to enter, with harsh scolding, fluttering of wings, and swelling
up of his little body, amusing to see. The boldest bird in the room was
awed by these demonstrations coming from the inside as though the cage
were his own. The tanager looked on all this with some interest, but
expressed no more gratitude at being protected than he had resentment at
being driven from the bath.

Soon I noticed a certain chattering talk from the small bird that he had
never indulged in excepting to another of his kind--his companion when
he first came to me. It was very low but almost continuous, and was
plainly addressed to the tanager. As his friendliness progressed, he
found the lower perch too far from his charmer, and not being allowed to
sit beside him he took to clinging upon the outside of the cage as near
to the tanager's usual seat as he could get. The only perching place he
had there was a band of tin that held the wires steady, but in spite of
what must have been the discomfort of the position, there he hung by the
hour, talking, calling, and looking at his idol within. He left the spot
only to eat and bathe, and I think if the cage had been supplied with
seed he would never have gone at all. When the bird inside hopped to the
perch at the other end of the cage, which was the extent of his
wanderings, the finch at once followed on the outside, always placing
himself as near as possible. It was really touching, to all but the
object of it, who took it in the m