Oliver Twist, Catbird 165 flies or for the worms that even in the greenhouse went down beyond reach of the trowel. The cage now stood among the plants in a sunny window of the dining-room, and the conversation at meal times generally started Oliver singing ; yet it was always a low version of the usual Catbird song, for he invariably sang with the bill nearly closed. Often in the dark December mornings he was scarcely awake when breakfast began, but in a few minutes we would hear his cheerful little song — the first thing in his day — before he even left his night's perch. Then, as the sun touched him there came a great arranging of feathers and a good shake to put each one in place again, and then breakfast. The bath was almost never omitted from the time the bird was about a month old, and often he bathed twice a day if the first were given him early in the morning : and how he enjoyed it 1 shuffling up the w^ater with his wings, ducking his head, and spattering in every direction till he was soaked through, then going to the perch and flicking wings and tail and ruffling, the feathers until dry. To some extent Oliver showed affection by coming most readily to me, who generally fed him, and by an odd little greeting he usu- ally gave when I offered him my finger, gently pinching it or giving a slight peck, too mild ever to be mistaken for anger. Unfortunately this was broken up by the teasing of another member of the family, and the pecks became too severe to be altogether agreeable. He was growing more wild and more unwilling to return to his cage, and I intended to let him go when spring came, but long before that time he got sickly and sluggish, eager for the berries and insects that were not to be found, and in spite of everything I tried in their stead, he died late in December. But though Oliver Twist lived so short a time he taught me many interesting lessons, one of which, in particular, I shall long remem- ber : never try to keep a fruit- and insect-eating bird through the winter, for no amount of willingness and care can supply him with proper food. Take nature's word for it — she knows quite well what she is about when she sends them all off to the south.
