The cage is placed on the end of the piano and often when we play and sing, Cedric sits very still and accompanies us with his soft, whispering trill.
Every morning Cedric has his bath in the big bath tub, where he is sprinkled with cold water from a bath sprinkler. He spreads his feathers and prances about apparently in great delight. He always seems sorry when his bath is ended. Notwithstanding his daily bath, he frequently goes through the motions of taking a second bath, this time in his drink dish, though no water gets farther than his eyes.
Cedric has been moulting for two months or more. When found his breast was whitish, mottled with dark spots, like the breast of a thrush. He had no red spots on his wings and was not the beautiful purplish fawn color which is now showing on back and crest and breast, as the new feathers make their appearance. Now very few mottled feathers remain on his breast, which is nearly covered with the pretty fawn-colored feathers. The feathers of the belly are light lemon color. The lemon-tipped tail feathers have come out, one or two at a time, and are now nearly all new. The vivid black forehead and chin are new, but the crest is in such a state of pinfeatherdom that one would hardly think our little friend had any crest to speak of. Long and anxiously have we looked forward to the day when the little red tips would appear on the wings, and February 10th the first one was observed on the lame wing. It is salmon colored, rather than the vivid red of sealing wax, as yet, but we are watching closely for all the changes as they come, and shall hope soon to see our pet arrayed in the full insignia of the very daintiest groomed of all the distinguished Cedar Waxwings.
Our great regret is that we cannot cure him and set him free with his kind. It is pathetic to hear him chirp at his own image in the mirror, and for some time he has been tearing paper in his cage and trying to make string or paper stay upon his perch, apparently as the foundation of his nest. Much as we love him, we would gladly set him free could he but hold his own in the bird world and escape his enemies. Could we but find someone who could set his wing so that he could fly among his kind, we would be gladly content with only the memory of a brave, patient, trusting, dainty, delightful friend.
The Bohemian Waxwing in Maine.
By Ora W. Knight, Bangor.
About the first of March the writer noticed an item in the Bangor Commercial to the effect that Mr. Clark had seen large flocks of the Northern Waxwing at Lubec during the past winter, but paid no further attention to the event, knowing that Mr. Clark would doubtless record the matter in proper shape in a more scientific medium in due season.
On March 9th, Dr. W. H. Simmons, of Bangor, called me up on the telephone and said he wished to tell me about the flock of Bohemian Waxwings which he had seen daily near his home since the middle of February. He stated that there was a good sized flock of the birds, and that they had been feeding daily on the fruit of a mountain ash tree which grew beside a window of his home, where he could look down on them. The birds had been coming for some time before he paid any especial attention to them, thinking that they were doubtless Pine Grosbeaks, until he happened to notice that they all had crests, which he knew was not a fact with the Grosbeaks. He then examined the birds critically and identified them as Bohemian Waxwings by their having white wing bars, yellow tips to their tail feathers, and by their prominent crests. Dr. Simmons also states that in February, 1908, a flock of birds of the same size were daily in the habit of visiting the same locality, but at that time he took no particular notice of them, though he is inclined to believe that they were of the present species.
March 11th, the writer and Mr. Winch visited the locality for the purpose of personally seeing the birds. They were not about Dr. Simmons' premises, but he was able to give us an idea of the general route they pursued, so that finally we found the flock feeding on rotten crab apples in an orchard several blocks away. Yes, there is no question as to their identity, as they were positively Bohemian Waxwings. They were busily engaged in eating the rotten apples, sometimes eating the pulp itself, at other times pecking the apple to pieces and eating the seeds, which they swallowed without shelling out the meat as do the Pine Grosbeaks.