ng already planned---on
the strength of the first experience--to have the mother hummer's
picture taken when she was feeding her young on the nest.

At first I thought this suspicion reflected upon the good sense of
hummingbirds, but after thinking it over concluded that it spoke better
for hummingbirds than for Billy and me. If this were, as I supposed, the
same bird who had to brood her young with Billy grazing at the end of
her bill, and if she had been present at the unlucky moment when he got
the oak branches tangled in the pommel of the saddle, although her
branch was not among them, I can but admire her for moving when she
found that the Philistines were again upon her, for her new house was
hung at the tip of a branch that Billy might easily have swept in
passing.

These nests had all been very low, only four or five feet above the
ground; but one day I found young in one of the common treetop nests. I
could see it through the branches. Two little heads stuck up above the
edge like two small Jacks-in-boxes. Billy made such a noise under the
oak when the bird was feeding the youngsters that I took him away where
he could not disturb the family, and tied him to an oak covered with
poison ivy, for he was especially fond of eating it, and the poison did
not affect him.

Before the old hummer flew off, she picked up a tiny white feather that
she found in the nest, and wound it around a twig. On her return, in the
midst of her feeding, she darted down and set the feather flying; but,
as it got away from her, she caught it again. The performance was
repeated the next time she came with food; but she did it all so
solemnly I could not tell whether she were playing or trying to get rid
of something that annoyed her.

She fed at the long intervals that are so trying to an observer, for if
you are going to sit for hours with your eyes glued to a nest, it
really is pleasant to have something happen once in a while! Though the
mother bird did not go to the nest often, she sometimes flew by, and
once the sound of her wings roused the young, and they called out to her
as she passed. When they were awake, it was amusing to see the little
midgets stick out their long, thread-like tongues, preen their
pin-feathers, and stretch their wings over the nest.

One fine morning when I went to the oak I heard a faint squeak, and saw
something fluttering up in the tree. When the mother came, she buzzed
about as though not liking the