When Dona Marina saw robin number two, she acted as if she thought there were getting to be more robins in the hospital than she cared to see, but when number three arrived, her eyes grew larger than ever, and she seemed to say: “Will they never cease coming?”
I was unusually busy when a friend came with a box. I said: “I hope you have not brought anything for me to take care of, as I am almost frantic now.” She said: “Only a baby robin.” I held up my hands and exclaimed: “But I already have two.” She said: “I did not know what else to do with it. It fell out of the nest, and I could not take care of it, and I knew you would.”
The poor little thing could not even stand up, and all it knew was to open its big bill and cry for food. Of course I was simply obliged to keep it.
Few people have the slightest idea of the care and trouble of a wild baby bird. I did not want it to starve to death, so every few moments I put cracker and milk down that yawning cavity. The last thing before I got into bed at twelve o’clock I fed it, and I got up and fed it every two hours during the night. I was almost in hopes it might die, but, when morning came, it was as lively as a cricket. I at once named the third orphan Bèbè, and for two weeks it gave to me the greatest pleasure, as well as constant care.
Bobbinette and Bobby simply hated the little stranger, and would not have the slightest thing to do with her. If I put her into their cage, they would immediately chase her out. She would fall on to the floor, as she could not fly, and get out of their way as quickly as her weak little legs could carry her. Every little while during the day, I would put her into her little white cot for a nap, and she would go to sleep at once.
Every day she grew stronger, and before many days could run about as fast as Bobbinette and Bobby, but she could not fly.
At that time Dona Marina gave birth to two beautiful kittens, consequently she was in the hospital most of the day as well as the night. At first I was afraid Dona Marina might hurt Bèbè, as Bèbè could not fly, and was usually on the floor when she was not taking her nap.
All there was to do was to make Dona Marina fully understand she was not to hurt or even frighten Bèbè.
I put Dona Marina on a chair, then put Bèbè beside her. By the way Bobbinette and Bobby cocked their pretty heads and puffed out their breasts, I knew they were thoroughly enjoying hearing me tell Dona Marina how very naughty they had been to Bèbè, and that she must be very kind to the little stranger, help take good care of her, and make her happy. Dona Marina nodded her wise little head, and blinked her intelligent eyes at me, smelled Bèbè all over, but never offered to bite her. In cat language she said she would always be kind, and try to take the place of her lost mother, and she kept her promise. From that day they were together almost constantly, Dona Marina lying on a chair or on the floor (when she was not giving her babies their dinner, as it was too warm weather to stay with them all the time), with Bèbè playing all about her.
When Bobbinette and Bobby felt very good-natured, they would ask Bèbè to play with them on the floor, but never would let her go inside their cage. If Dona Marina was trying to take a nap, they would hop all about her, chirp as loud as they could, and tell Bèbè to go and pull her tail, which she often did. Dona Marina would open her eyes, smile at her, close them, give a good stretch, and go to sleep again.