The San Francisco call., 1910-01-01
THE TWITTERINGS OF KATRINA


member my mother. who Dicky told me
was soft yellow bird with a bad
temper | did not greatly miss her MY
handsome little father. once the hatch
ing over, very efficiently took her place.
1 remember long after ,was able to
feed myself he would come to me with
his gallant little air and offer me the
tenderest little tidbits in his beak
which tidbits. needless to Say. | always
greedily accepted.
am afraid I was, and stil am.
little quick tempered
Often have heard the home folks
say; Listen to Katrina growhngr
That seems a large word to apply to
enc so small as I. but ] am afraid ! do
SO, on small scale. when things do not
suit me and poor Dicky often comes i'm
for his share Of my displcasure, taking
it very meckly.
Our dear little mistress often opened
the doors Of our cages and let US fly
about the big sunny room. Then, too.
always thoughtful of our comfort, she
would leave our little glass bathtub on
a small table, and, after DiclSy taught
me how to bathe. many a glorious
plunge we had and wild flight around
the room TO dry our dripping feathers.
l have never seen any other bird battle
as Dicky did. He would perch on the
edge Of the little gass bathtub for a
moment, then plunge boldly in, his lit
tie legs far apart and shake the water
over his glistening green feathers in
keenest enjoyment
! once heard Laurie's mother say he
shook himself in the water as dog
does but as / have never seen a dog
bathe-I am quite afraid Of them-I
can not say from my own observation.
SO the long summer days passed with
nothing more eventful to mark their
passing than an occasional quarrel with
Sweetie, who. as l have remarked was
somewhat of a trial to me, when a
dreadful thing happened
| was awakened in the dim light OF
early morning by hearing something
thrashing about on the bottom of the
cage.
| was terribly frightened and edged
closer 10 Sweetie, who was sitting all
punched up on the perch staring down
ward. 1t was Buttercup-pretty yellow
Buttercup-his soft wings eutspread--
twisting and writhing in agony.
What had happened? What was this?
He had gone to sleep on his perch
when we did--his pretty yellow head
tucked snugly under his wing-one
slender leg tucked up into the round
golden ball Of his body
Now what allied him--lying on his
breast, his outstretched claws spasmod-
ically opening and closing?
was ne dying!
Sweetie, still gazing as if fascinated
spoke to him, but no answer came. and
still that soft irregular fiapping of his
wings and the convulsive moving OF
his claws.
know not how long 1T lasted--to me
frightened spellbound-it seemed ages
till Laurie came and lifting tile COW
ering from the cage. gazed horror
stricken at Buttercup.
"Oh, Buttercup. Poor little Buttercup
What is the matter Mammal Butter
cup is dying!' she cried.
Her mother came hurriedly up.
Then she lifted Sweetie and myself
gently out of the cage and put us in
the smaller one with Dicky in the other
room.
Buttercup did not die that day for
we could hear Laurie's mamma talking
pleadingly, softly, encouraging, to him
But we never saw him again-our
pretty. gay little playmate.
The next day Laurie's mother passed
through the room, very pale, with a
little white box in her hand and I
caught glimpse of yellow feathers
among the blossoms in ii and / knew
that Buttercup was dead.