h was the back of the great rocking-chair,
which, being covered by a tidy, gave some hold into which he could catch
his little claws. There he would sit, balancing himself cleverly if its
occupant chose to swing to and fro, and seeming to be listening to the
conversation or reading.

Hum had his different moods, like human beings. On cold, cloudy, gray
days, he appeared to be somewhat depressed in spirits, hummed less about
the room, and sat humped-up with his feathers ruffled, looking as much
like a bird in a great-coat as possible. But on hot, sunny days, every
feather sleeked itself down, and his little body looked natty and trim,
his head alert, his eyes bright, and it was impossible to come near him,
for his agility. Then let mosquitos and little flies look about them!
Hum snapped them up without mercy, and seemed to be all over the ceiling
in a moment, and resisted all our efforts at any personal familiarity
with a saucy alacrity.

[Illustration]

Hum had his established institutions in our room, the chief of which was
a tumbler with a little sugar and water mixed in it, and a spoon laid
across, out of which he helped himself whenever he felt in the
mood,--sitting on the edge of the tumbler, and dipping his long bill,
and lapping with his little forked tongue like a kitten. When he found
his spoon accidentally dry, he would stoop over and dip his bill in the
water in the tumbler,--which caused the prophecy on the part of some of
his guardians, that he would fall in some day and be drowned. For which
reason it was agreed to keep only an inch in depth of the fluid at the
bottom of the tumbler. A wise precaution this proved; for the next
morning I was awaked, not by the usual hum over my head, but by a sharp
little flutter, and found Mr. Hum beating his wings in the
tumbler,--having actually tumbled in during his energetic efforts to get
his morning coffee before I was awake.

Hum seemed perfectly happy and satisfied in his quarters,--but one day,
when the door was left open, made a dart out, and so into the open
sunshine. Then, to be sure, we thought we had lost him. We took the
mosquito netting out of all the windows, and, setting his tumbler of
sugar and water in a conspicuous place, went about our usual
occupations. We saw him joyous and brisk among the honeysuckles outside
the window, and it was gravely predicted that he would return no more.
But at dinner-time in came Hum, familiar as possible, and sat down