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KNOT OR ROBIN SNIPE.
(Tringa canutus.)
About ¾ Life-size.
FROM COL. CHI. ACAD. SCIENCES.

THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A BIRD.

My name is Dewey, and no bird was ever prouder of his name. I know if Admiral Dewey could see me he would feel proud of his namesake, as I am said to be an unusually handsome, intelligent bird. I have been laughing in my wings for many months, hearing people say what kind of a bird I am. Some say I am an oriole; some a male, others a female; another a meadowlark; another not a meadowlark, but some kind of lark. One thing they agree upon, that I go on a lark from early morn till “Dewey eve.” I am said to have a little of the bluejay, and points like dozens of birds. When I was about six weeks old I was quite large and fluffy, but very much of a baby, for I knew nothing about feeding myself. My tail was long, olive on top, yellow underneath; wings black, with cream color on the edges—on the lower feathers just a line, on the upper ones quite a little wider, at the top short yellow feathers, making lovely little scallops; head and back olive-brown; rump more on the yellow; throat and breast light yellow, with a tinge of blue under the wings, and belly only tinted. As I grew older I kept changing, and now at nine months old my breast is light-orange, belly light-yellow, head and back deeper olive, rump deeper yellow. I broke my tail all off in the fall, and when it came in, the upper feathers were black, with yellow a quarter of an inch at the rump; under ones yellow and black. On my head are almost invisible stripes of black, on my neck pretty broken wavy ones. My eyes are large and bright, my bill everyone says is the handsomest they have ever seen, very long and pointed as a needle. Underneath ivory white, on top black, with a white star at the head. The admiration of all are my legs and claws, as I keep them so clean, and they are a beautiful blue, just the shade of malachite. I am seven inches long, and for the last month have been getting black spots over my eyes and on my throat. Now what kind of a bird am I?

One June afternoon I thought I was old enough to take a walk by myself, so off I started, without asking permission of my father or mother. All went well for awhile, and I was having a delightful time, seeing many new strange things. Then all at once I began to feel very tired and hungry, and thought I would go home, but which way to go I knew not. I went this way and that and peeped as loud as ever I could, calling “Mother! mother!” but no answer came. Finally I sat down, tucked my head under my wing and went to sleep. The next thing I knew something was coming down over me and I was held very tight. I screamed, pecked, and tried my best to get away. Then someone said very gently: “Don’t be afraid, little birdie; I am not going to harm you, but send you to a lady who loves little birds, and will take good care of you.” I was dreadfully frightened, but I did not make another peep. We went a long way. Then I heard the little boy say: “Charlotte, will you please take this bird to Miss Bascom, for she was so kind to me when I was sick?” I changed hands, and off we went. Soon I heard some one calling out: “There comes Charlotte with a bird.” Then another voice said: “I wonder if it is another sparrow;” but when she saw me she exclaimed, “What a perfect beauty!” took me in her hand and I knew at once I had found a good friend and new mother. Bread and milk were ordered. Of course, I did not know what bread and milk were, but I was so hungry I could have swallowed dirt or stones, so there was no trouble about my taking it, and I wished all birds could have such delicious food. I was taken up-stairs to my new home, where everything was in pink and green and looked so fresh I thought I was back in the clover field. My new mother (for that is what I mean to call her) took me up to what she called a cage and said: “Tricksey and Cervera, I want to introduce you to your new brother.” Tricksey charmed me at once, for he was like a ray of sunshine in his dress of gold, but when I looked at Cervera I laughed right out in his face. It was very rude, but I know if any of you had been in my place you would have done the same thing. Of all the ugly specimens of a bird I had ever seen he was the very worst. He was Tricksey’s size, but only had his baby feathers and one tail feather. He was dirt color, had big staring eyes, and such a bill, almost as large as his head, which was perfectly flat. He looked so common and ill-bred that I wondered how dainty Tricksey ever sat beside him. I was too sleepy to ask any questions and was soon fast asleep on my new mother’s finger; then was put into a nice little basket filled with cotton. The next day Tricksey was very kind to me, but Cervera was cross and pecked me every time he got a chance. Tricksey said: “I have tried to be kind to that old Spaniard, Cervera, but I do not like him and will not have him snuggle close to me nights, so I fight him until he gets into the swing. If you will sleep in the cage you may put your wings close to mine, for you are so pretty and clean.” When bedtime came my new mother said I was too large for the basket, and I might try sleeping in the cage, so she put me in and made Cervera get up into the swing. Just as Tricksey and I were going to sleep Cervera began swinging with all his might, and would reach down, peck us on the head and pull our feathers out. When he was caught he was taken out and made to sleep in the basket. In the morning we were all let out on the floor, and it was amusing to see Cervera mimic everything Tricksey did. If Tricksey took a drink Cervera did, and would follow everywhere he went.

About that time I saw coming into the room a large, striped thing, with shining, green eyes, and my heart beat so fast I could hardly breathe. Tricksey whispered in my ear: “You need not be at all afraid; that is only Taffy, the cat, and we are the best of friends.” Taffy jumped into my new mother’s lap, and we three stood on the table and ate bread and milk together. The first time I was left in the room alone I looked around to see what would be nice to play with. First I went over to the dressing table, carried two large cuff-buttons and put them into my drinking cup, another pair I put on the floor of the cage with two large coral hairpins, two shell pins, and some studs. I stuck all the pins on anything I could pick up and threw them on the floor; turned over a basket which was filled with ribbon and lace; some I left on the floor, and with the rest I trimmed the cage. When I heard my new mother coming I began to tremble. She stood speechless for a moment, then said: “You rogue of a bird; how shall I punish you?” Then took me in her hand and kissed me, and I knew the future was clear, and I could have all the fun I wanted. Tricksey had the asthma very bad, and sometimes a little whisky on some sugar would relieve him. It was funny to see that bad Cervera maneuvre to get Tricksey off the perch so he could eat the sugar and whisky. Tricksey grew worse instead of better, and one morning my new mother was wakened early by his hard breathing. She took him off from his perch and found his claws ice-cold, and he was so weak he could hardly hold on. He lay in her hand a moment, then threw back his pretty head and all was over. We were all heart-broken and shed many tears, for we were powerless to bring back to life that little bird we loved so dearly. I really felt sorry for that horrid Cervera. He missed Tricksey, and for days seemed to be looking for him. One evening he went out the window, and we never saw him again.

I am very fond of sweet apples and generally whenever I want anything that is down-stairs I go and get it. I love grapes better than any other fruit. When I want one I hop back and forth on the back parlor table, then on