A BIT OF BIRD BENEVOLENCE.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume IX, Issue 23, 4 June 1892, Page 581

A BIT OF BIRD BENEVOLENCE.

HOW a male canary brought up a wild foundling. I have just heard a bird story that is more than clever ; it has a touch of poetry and romance. It is told me by a lady who spent last summer in California anil it came out when I was admiring the song of a pretty yellow canary that she calls Willie. He was with his mistress when she was domiciled in a country house in a California valley just at the edge of the foothills The large surrounding grounds were fairly overrun with birds, the whereabouts of between thirty and forty nests within a space of three or four acres being known at one time. The house was so big that some of the rooms were not in use at all—not by the unfeathered household at any rate —but the linnets in a number of cases came through the slats of the shutters of these unfrequented apartments and made nests on the window sills. This performance was more ingenious than wise on their part, for the wind was liable to turn the slats and cut off supplies at any time. It was part of the self imposed duties of the young giil of the family to see that accidents of this sort were set right, but even the prettiest and most becoming duties will occasionally be neglected by young girls, and one time a nest was forgotten for nearly a week. When it was visited a tragic sight met the eye of the remorseful visitor, for there was a nest with five dead, unfeathered little birds in it, and one not dead but at its last gasp. Madama la mire had been shut out. Every effort was made to nourish the survivor, hairpins and knitting needles being used to introduce the food, but all in vain, and it looked as if the poor baby bird would in a few minutes join its departed brothers and sisters. At last it was noticed that Willie, from his cage, was showing a great interest in the performances over the starveling, and the experiment of putting the little one with him was suggested. It was a lucky suggestion. Willie fluttered around the stranger a moment or two, all his feathers standing on end with excitement, and then he Hew to his dish of bread and milk and began to feed his visitor in the most approved mother bird fashion. He bad been a family man, alt hough at this time he was a widower, and he knew how young ones ought to be cared for. He gave up singing and devoted himself wholly for weeks to his foundling. He brought it up without assistance except—and this is not the least singular part of the story — such as came from a male linnet who, when the eage was hung on the porch, used to come and feed the young one through the bars. It is the conclusion, as true as fitting to this bird idyll, that when the rescued bird grew up —it was a female— Willie married her.