not so great as to drive him wild, he
resorted to that diversion, and the more disturbed, the louder and
faster his blows. If in utter despair, as when I set his house in order
for the day, he dropped to the floor on the farthest side, put his head
in the corner, and pounded the tray with great violence. Every wire in
the cage in turn he tested with taps of his beak, thus amusing himself
hours at a time, sitting, as was his custom, crouched upon the perch or
on the floor. In this way, too, he tried the quality of the plastered
wall behind his cage, and was evidently pleased to find it yielding, for
he bored many holes and tore off much paper, before he was discovered
and provided with a background of wood to exercise upon.

The unhappy bird had a serious time learning to eat mocking-bird food
with his long, curved beak; he never became very expert at it, but was
as awkward as a child learning to feed itself. He first thrust it like a
dagger its whole length into his dish, took out a mouthful, then turned
his head sidewise, shook it and snapped his bill one side and the other,
making a noise as if choking. When this performance was over, he scraped
his beak against the wires and picked off the fragments daintily with
the tip. When he had eaten he left a straight, smooth hole in the food,
like a stab, two inches deep and perhaps half an inch in diameter. In
drinking he made the same movements, filling his mouth, throwing back
his head, and swallowing with great efforts.

All of the Golden-wing's attitudes were peculiar; as, for instance, he
never liked to face one, but always turned his back upon spectators and
looked at them over his shoulder. In sleeping he changed his position
often, and was as restless as a nervous old man. Sometimes he slept on
the perch, puffed out into a ball like other birds, head buried in his
feathers, tail broad-spread and curled under the perch, as though it
needed something to rest against. If he began his night's rest (or
unrest) in this position, in a few hours he would drop heavily to the
floor, scramble about a little, and then climb to one of the supports
that kept the wires in place, ten inches from the bottom of the cage.
There he settled himself comfortably, head buried again, tail pressed
against the wires, and looking more like a spot on the wall than a bird.

He often took naps in the daytime on the floor with his head in the
corner, like a bad boy in punishment, his head drawn do