When Bèbè would hear Dona Marina and me coming up the stairs, she would run out into the hall to meet us, hop along by Dona Marina’s side into the dressing-room, hop on to the edge of her dish, and drink milk with her, and Dona Marina never gave her a cross look.
We feel sure if Bèbè had lived until the cot with the kittens in it was put on the floor, she would have gotten right in and gone to sleep with them. But dear Bèbè’s life was far too short for me, but plenty long for Bobbinette and Bobby.
One afternoon while I was out, Bèbè must have felt badly, and went down-stairs to look for me. She found her way into my mother’s room and woke her with her peeping. My mother spoke to her, but she knew it was not the voice she was accustomed to, and tried to find her way back. She was dreadfully frightened when she was finally caught, for she also knew it was not the hand that fondled her. When I returned, I saw at once there was something wrong with my baby bird, as a very bad odour was coming from her breath. I did all I could, put her to bed, and she seemed all right. The next morning she grew worse again, and in a few moments was nothing but a ball of pretty lifeless feathers. I felt sure she died of blood poison from the angleworms that were forced down her throat before she was brought to the hospital. The mother birds always kill the worms before feeding to their birdlings.
After Bobbinette had been in the hospital a week, as a great honour, I presented Cady’s blue and white china bath-dish to her. She acknowledged the compliment by going right in and taking a nice bath. When Bobby arrived, he did not even wait to be asked to make use of the bath-tub, but took possession at once. After that, Bobbinette positively refused to take her bath in it. Every day when I offered it to her, she would hop on to the edge, then fly away, go into the cage, scold, and try to make me understand what she meant. If I held the dish up to her, she would hop on, take a drink, and away she would go.
This went on for two weeks, then all at once it flashed through my stupid brain that she had no intention of taking a bath in the same dish Bobby did.
I immediately went down-stairs, and came back with an oval white vegetable dish, and said: “Bobbinette, how would you like this for your very own?” She was wild with delight, and could hardly wait until it was filled; in fact, got in before the water was put in. I assure you she took a good long bath to make up for the two weeks she had been without.
The next morning, when I put the blue dish down for Bob and the white one for Bobbinette, that impertinent and presuming fellow had the face to go over to Bobbinette’s dish and say: “I think I will try the white one for a change,” and hopped on with a very grand air; but he hopped off much quicker than he hopped on, for Bobbinette flew at him and took feathers out of the top of his head. When she sees him, she will never let him go near her dish, but often she does not see him, and, if I am not there, he will take part of his bath in hers, then the rest in his own.
BOBBINETTE BOBBY
Lately I have made it a point to be there until he finishes, for I cannot supply a new dish for Bobbinette every few days.