od-parent and refused to let any one touch him. I began to fear
that I should have him on my hands at last, for even the parents seemed
to appreciate his characteristics and to know that he could not be
hurried, and both were still busy following the vagaries of number one.
The mother now and then returned to look after him and was greatly
disturbed by his unnatural conduct--and so was I. He appeared stupid, as
if he had come out too soon, and did not even know how to hop. It was
twenty minutes by the watch before he moved. His mother's calls at last
aroused him; he raised himself upon his shaky little legs, cried out,
and started off exactly as number one had done,--westward, hopping, and
lifting his wings at every step. Then I saw by the enormous amount of
white on his wings that he was a singer. He went as far as the fence,
and there he paused again. In vain did the mother come and scold; in
vain did I try to push him along. He simply knew his own will, and meant
to have it; the world might be strange, but he was not in the least
interested. He rested in that spot fifteen or twenty minutes more, while
I stood guard as before, and preserved him from cages of both negroes
and whites. At last he did manage to squeeze through the fence, and,
much relieved, I left him to the old birds, one of whom was down in the
lot beyond the garden, no doubt following up his ambitious first-born.

Whoever, meanwhile, was left in the nest had a poor chance of food, and
one was already crying. It was not until six o'clock that the birds
seemed to remember the nestling; then it was well fed, and left again.
Nothing would be easier than to follow the wandering youngsters, see how
they got on and how soon they were able to fly, but this so disturbed
the parents I had not the heart to do it; and besides I feared they
would starve the infants, for one was never fed while I was near.
Doubtless their experience of the human race forbade their confiding in
the kindly intentions of any one. It was well that only two of the young
appeared in one day, for keeping track of them was so serious a matter
that two parents could scarcely manage it.

Number three differed from both of his elders; he was a cry-baby. He
was not bright and lively like number one, and he did not squawk like
number two, but he cried constantly, and at six P. M. I left him calling
and crying at the top of his voice. Very early the next morning I
hastened to the scene of yesterd