Shepherdstown register. [volume] (Shepherdstown, Va. [W. Va.]) 1849-1955, 1903-09-10


shouting to all the world of cats and
boys that here was nice, fat young
oriole to be had for the taking. His
brilliant father coaxed and command
ed to no purpose, and the little one
made such a racket that | was afraid
be would attract some neighborhood
cat, and I put him in tree. No,
ma am That was not the place he
cared about, and he tumbled out and
made for bush. In less time than
it takes to tell the story he was yell
ing from it as if nothing had inter-
rupted him. Finally, to stop his
noise and save his life, I fed him cher
ries, dropping them into his wide
open mouth with hairpin. He would
only be quiet while the cherries were
sliding down his throat. Ny patience
gave out and I left him, thinking to
myself that he might as well die of
cats as indigestion.
A couple of weeks ago I found
pretty thatched cottage out in Brook
side Park. 1t was charming home
for the four little ones who lived in
it. They were too small to make
friends, and their mother rather
snubbed me. Two days later l called
again. But, ah, me the thatched
cottage was torn to pieces and not a
trace of the babies could | find. The
mother with some breakfast for them,
was hurrying nervOusly around, up
and down, back and forth through
the freshly cut grass, hunting for her
little ones. l found the floor Of the
cottage, led by her anxious search.
Nothing but a meadow lark, any
way" Oh, yes, and silly enough to
build her home in the way Of civiliza-
tion in the shape of mowers who had
cut the grass.
When human homes are swept
away by tornsdoes or cloudbursts We
rush to help with our sympathy and
money, but the meadow larks have to
recover from their disaster without
help. l left the meadow lark still
nervously walking up and down, her
head very erect, her bill full of food
for the birdlings, searching all around
the place where the little cottage had
been. Never mind, little mother,
that park is for people, not for birds.
What do a hundred ruined homes Of
your sort mean, in comparison with a
spick and span expanse of shorn mead
ow, mounded here and there with
great heaps of hay?
Robin babies have the sobri' ty and
serenity that is characteristic Of their
parents. Once in a while they get
into trouble, but, as a rule, they are
quiet, well-regulated children to
which the term "infant" can be prop
erly applied. Whether they are trail
ing about on the lawn after the moth
er, as she prizes the breakfast out Of
the grounds, sitting in a sedate row
on a mulberry branch, waiting for a
berry or watching her as che shows
them how an orthodox robin bathes,
they are always the same convention
al, well-behaved birdlings.
Chippies manage to start their chill
dren in the world without much fuss,
but if an accident does befall, woe is
me what a row they make. A few
days ago on the tennis lawn there was
an outcry that could only mean one
thing-dire disastar to somebody :
baby. Two chippies were the au-
thors of all that noise, and as ! gazed
around trying to find what it was
about, one of the birds fell at my feet
and then dragged itself away as though
half dozen wings and leg or two
were broken. When the mother bird
resorts to that, one may know one is
pretty hot, as the children say in
"eye spy" aud soon I found a wee
hop o my thumb Of birding, evil
dently too small to try the big world.
After lively scramble I caught the
elf and put him in tree while the
parent birds split the air and their
throats as they shouted fer all the
tree-tOP police.
English sparrow babies? We re-
vile the grown-up birds; in their
homely persons they embody such a
large proportion Of the bad traits Of
the bird world, but it cannot be de-
MED that the little ones are very cum
ming. Who has not seen an expect
ant row Of them percbed on fence
pickets waiting for papa or mamma
to bring them something to eat? They
are everywhere, in our lawns and
trees, parks and gardens downtown
Al