April 16, he lured her into the house, and after that they came often for food, flying fearlessly in at the window, and delighting their friends with their songs and charming ways. Louis invariably gave the choicest morsels to his mate, and the course of true love seemed to cross the adage; but alas! Death was already adjusting an arrow for that shining mark.
April 25, Louise stayed in the house all day, going out at nightfall. Again the following day she remained indoors, Louis feeding her; but her excellent appetite disarmed suspicion, and it was thought that she had taken refuge from the cold and rain, especially as she spent the night within. The third morning, April 27, she died. An examination of her body revealed three dreadful wounds.
Louis came twittering to the window, but was not let in until a day or two after, when a new bird, "Louisa," had been put in the cage. When he saw the familiar form, he evidently thought his lost love restored, for he burst into glorious song; but, soon discovering his mistake, he stopped short in his hallelujahs, and walked around the cage inspecting the occupant.
CARDINAL
Louisa's admiration for the Cardinal was marked; but for some days he took little notice of her, and his friends began to fear that their second attempt at matchmaking would prove a failure. April 30, however, some responsive interest was shown, and the next day Louis brought to the cage a brown bug half an inch long, and gave Louisa his first meat-offering.
The second wooing progressed rapidly, and May 7, when Louisa was set free, the pair flew away together with unrestrained delight. After three days of liberty, Louisa flew back to the house with her mate, and thenceforth was a frequent visitor.
May 21, Louisa was seen carrying straws, and on June 6 her nest was discovered low down in a dense evergreen thorn (Cratægus pyracantha). Four speckled eggs lay in the nest. These were hatched June 9, the parent birds, meantime and afterward, going regularly to market and keeping up social relations with their friends.
In nine days after their exit from the shell, the little Cardinals left the nest and faced life's sterner realities. A black cat was their worst foe, and more than once during their youth Louis flew to his devoted commissary and made known his anxiety. Each time, on following him to the nest, she found the black prowler, or one of his kind, watching for prey. On June 28, the black cat outwitted the allied forces, Señor Cardinal and his friends, and a little one was slain. The other three grew up and enjoyed all the privileges of their parents, flying in at the window and frequenting the bountiful porch.
July 25, Louisa disappeared from the scene, presumably on a southern trip, leaving the Cardinal sole protector, provider and peace-maker for their lively and quarrelsome triplet. A fight is apparently as needful for the development of a young Cardinal as of an English schoolboy, possibly due in both cases to a meat diet.