In the same way, I have been struck by the certainty that when I enter the aviary with the intention of catching a certain bird, he knows it, and he alone gets excited. If my sister were with me she would not know which bird I was about to lay my hands on. The particular bird knows by the glance I give him.
When Minnie had finished lining the nest I gave her, and began to sit on it, Jennie became wild with jealousy. She flew at the nest, pulled pieces from it, and was such a scandal and shame to Minnie and Norwich that, wishing to please her too, I made another nest and put it in the other end of the cage.
Now she too was happy, and began to lay eggs and to sit on them. I thought this a satisfactory condition of affairs, but as time went on I became convinced that two hen canaries should not have nests in the same cage.
Norwich spent all his time with Minnie. He sat by her, talked to her, filled his beak with food that he put in her pleading one, and sang to her, until the exasperated Jennie would call out as if to say, “Have you not a word for me?”
Norwich would draw himself up, look at her uneasily, as if he were asking, “Why can’t you let a fellow alone?” then would continue his attentions to Minnie.
Jennie almost boiled over, and leaving her nest flew at Minnie’s, often seizing a beakful of stuffing, to the great detriment of the eggs. Minnie too had a temper, and lowering her head and spreading her wings, would rush at her former friend, shaking like a little fury, while the uneasy Norwich would almost fidget himself off his claws, squeaking uncomfortably as if to say, “I don’t see why you two ladies can’t agree!”
I soon took Jennie away. She was a nice little bird, and I did not like to see her unhappy. She went back to the aviary, and lived there happily for some time.
Now ensued a season of calm for Minnie and Norwich. In thirteen days her eggs began to hatch. I had never seen young canaries before, and examined them with deep interest as they lay at the bottom of the nest—three tiny yellow and red lumps of flesh, developing long necks and microscopic open beaks when Norwich touched them tenderly with his own.
How he did stuff them! I wish that all human babies had such devoted parental affection as those tiny birds had. All day long he hung over them, and the instant the little heads were raised he was ready with his beak full of the perfectly fresh egg-food I made for them.
Every night he nestled close beside them and Minnie. I have never had another canary do this, the father bird usually sleeping a little way from the mother. Norwich and Minnie were a remarkable pair. She was so businesslike and resourceful; he was so intensely sensitive and affectionate.