Soon the birds came around, but they did not seem in the least alarmed by my presence. The larger one came very near, and actually flew against my face. I held up my hand, when the bird flew straight into it. I instantly closed my fingers and held him a prisoner. His plumage was brilliant beyond description. As the beautiful captive did not seem to resent my familiarity, I examined his coat carefully before giving the bird its freedom.
I had still another experience with a hummer. On a bright summer day one flew through an open door into a room where I was sitting. Quick as a flash the bird discovered its mistake. It dashed against a window pane with all its might and dropped on the floor. I hastily picked it up. It seemed quite dead. But as I held it in my open hand, silently sympathizing over its fate, the bird suddenly revived and flitted out through the open door before I could wink.
J. Mayne Baltimore.
MY HUMMINGBIRD.
No other fairy did I see
So graceful, pulsing, in the air,
As if the heart of nature beat
Its throbbings in the birdlet there.
The gray, the green, the dash of red,
The beating wings that gauzy seem—