My little goldfinch did not seem very strong. One can fancy that after having a struggle with limed twigs, and then being shut up in a tiny cage with an entire change of food, and being transported across a wide ocean, he would not to any sensible degree find himself benefited in health. This poor little fellow soon died, and the bird-dealer gave me another one that worried along through one winter and spring. He was like the first one, as far as two birds can be alike. I became very fond of him. He was such a quiet, good little creature, and never molested another bird. When moulting-time came his weak points were accentuated. His feathers seemed to drop out all at once, and he lost his ability to fly. However, he bore his affliction philosophically, and seeing that his wings had deserted him, calmly took to his slender brown feet. Through the long, pleasant autumn days, he would go from tree to tree, climbing from one branch to another till he reached the top, then at night he always chose for his bed-place a perch near the old-fashioned worked picture, given to my father by one of his parishioners, and entitled, “Sweet rest in Heaven.”
This picture hung in my bedroom, a sunny apartment opening on the roof-veranda. I had very much enjoyed this room, but my birds had become so sociable, hopping in to see me, examining my pincushion and workbasket for threads and bits of cloth for their nests, and also crowding me so much when I tried to look in my mirror, that for a part of the year I gave the room up to them and slept in another.
I had nailed some branches and perches to the walls and the little goldfinch when morning came, carefully picked his way down from behind the picture, and began journeying to and fro on the veranda, with many slips and many falls, but with so much enjoyment of his liberty that I could not bear to shut him up in one of the detested cages.
I knew that it was scarcely safe to have this little crippled fellow wandering about among large birds, but he was so discreet, and the large birds seemed so forbearing, that I hoped nothing would happen to him.
Then I was with my birds nearly all day long, either on the veranda or in the bird-room, and if I were not there some members of the family would be reading, sewing, or entertaining friends out in the sunshine.
I kept for several years from eighty to a hundred birds at a time, and there were a good many quarrels which would be quickly settled by a word from us, or sometimes by the birds themselves.
I have often seen a bird rush between two others who were angrily beating each other. Of course, the purpose of this bird is not to settle the quarrel. After watching them carefully I concluded that they interfere from a variety of motives, none of them altruistic. I think the chief reason of their interference arises from the fact that birds are highly sensitive creatures. They hate sharp noises and any disturbance. If they do not understand a noise they fly away and hide, or rush wildly to and fro. If they do understand it, as in the case of two of their fellows quarreling, they irritably interfere, as if to say, “Why do you make such a horrible noise and disturb the harmony of things?”
The gallinules loved the roof-veranda, and solemnly ascending the elevator, would stand for hours in the water dishes, or would bask in the sunlight. I noticed that they moved about a good deal at night, and I have since heard that there is more movement in the bird world at night than we sometimes suppose.
I know many of my birds would make their way about, if there was the least particle of light, and some of them would arouse me by flying to and fro, and singing, if the moonlight were bright.
I did not know very much about gallinules, and it did not occur to me that they would prey upon birds, though I did find one of them playing with one of the turtles. However, gallinules were waders, and anything that lived in the water would be legitimate prey. But this second gallinule should not have killed my dear little goldfinch, and torn his wise little head from his shoulders.