My attention was drawn to them by a most obstreperous
twittering; and looking behind the fireboard, there were three young
birds, clinging with their feet against one of the jambs, looking at me,
open-mouthed, and all clamoring together, so as quite to fill the room
with the short, eager, frightened sound. The old birds, by certain signs
upon the floor of the room, appeared to have fallen victims to the
appetite of the cat. La belle Nancy provided a basket filled with
cotton-wool, into which the poor little devils were put; and I tried to
feed them with soaked bread, of which, however, they did not eat with
much relish. Tom, the Irish boy, gave it as his opinion that they were
not old enough to be weaned. I hung the basket out of the window, in the
sunshine, and upon looking in, an hour or two after, found that two of
the birds had escaped. The other I tried to feed, and sometimes, when a
morsel of bread was thrust into its open mouth, it would swallow it. But
it appeared to suffer very much, vociferating loudly when disturbed, and
panting, in a sluggish agony, with eyes closed, or half opened, when let
alone.
Pages:
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103