Citizen Bird: Scenes from Bird-Life in Plain English for Beginners. Elliott Coues

old haunts at Orchard Farm and give the House Children a chance to learn that there are no such things as "common" birds.

CHAPTER II

       Table of Contents

      THE DOCTOR'S WONDER ROOM

      Nathaniel and Theodora, who were called Nat and Dodo for short, were standing in the hallway outside Dr. Hunter's door, engaged in a very lively argument.

      "I say birds are animals," blustered Nat, pounding his fists together after a fashion of his own.

      "And I'm as sure as anything that they can't be," persisted Dodo, "because they have feathers, and nothing else has."

      "That doesn't prove anything. Everything that lives and grows is either an animal or a vegetable. Do you think that birds grow like potatoes and are dug out of the ground, or come off trees like apples?" And Nat gave himself an air of great wisdom, such as brothers are apt to wear when they are in the fifth reader, and their sisters are only in the third.

      "But isn't there anything besides animals and vegetables that they might be? Perhaps they are minerals," said Dodo, brightening up as she thought of the word.

      "Oh! oh! what a stupid you are, Dodo! Minerals! Why those are rocks and such things, that can't move and don't live." Nat laughed rather rudely, and, putting his hands in his pockets, began to whistle.

      "I think you might tell me what kind of an animal a bird is, and why it has feathers and can fly, instead of laughing," said Dodo in a shaky voice; for her feelings were very tender and she remembered too late what minerals are.

      "Yes, tell her, Nat," said Olive, who came through the hall just then. "Are you holding your knowledge tight in your pockets, or whistling to keep from telling it?"

      Nat scowled a minute and then said frankly, for every one was frank with Olive, "I really don't know what sort of an animal a bird is, though I'm sure it is an animal. Don't you think Uncle Roy will tell us?"

      "I'm sure he will be glad to, if he is not very busy, and he is seldom too busy to talk of birds. He is writing a book now of all the things he knows about them. Knock on the door, Dodo."

      "I'm afraid to," said Dodo, clasping her hands behind her. "Mammy says that room is full of birds, and that we must never go in there. Suppose when the door opens they should get out and fly away?"

      "Mammy was right in telling you not to go in without asking, because there are a great many books and papers there that father values, and you might upset them. But the birds that are there are not alive. They are dead birds that father has collected from all parts of America—stuffed birds, such as you have seen in the glass cases in the Museum."

      "But, Cousin Olive," said Nat in astonishment, "if Uncle Roy has shot enough birds to fill a big room, why won't he let me pop at a few with my shooter?"

      "You must ask him why yourself, Nat. Knock again, Dodo. Father, may we come in? The children are here, with pockets full of questions;" and Olive opened the door of the study, which Dodo named "the wonder room" that very day.

      It was a very long room on the southwest side of the house. The sun streamed in through three wide windows, and at one end there was a deep fireplace with brass andirons upon which some logs smouldered, for though it was a mild May day the great room felt cool. Around the room were deep cases with glass doors, from which peeped all kinds and sizes of birds, while between the tops of the cases and the ceiling the spaces were filled by colored bird pictures. The Doctor's desk stood in front of one window, heaped with papers and books; down the middle of the room were low book-cases standing back to back, and where these ended, before the hearth, was a high-backed settle, almost as long as a bed.

      The children stood still for a minute, speechless with surprise and delight. Then Dodo made a rush for the Doctor's chair, and hugging him round the neck, cried, "Dear Uncle Roy, will you please let us stay in here a little while, so that we can learn what sort of animals birds are, and all about them? And will you tell Nat why you let yourself shoot birds when you won't let him?" Here Dodo stopped, both for lack of breath and because she knew that her sentences were mixing themselves dreadfully.

      "So you have been here two whole days without finding me out," said the Doctor, seating Dodo comfortably on his knee. "Aren't you afraid of the old ogre who keeps so many birds prisoners in his den, and bewitches them so that they sit quite still and never even try to fly? You want to know about birds, do you, Miss Dodo, and Nat feels grieved because I won't let him pop at our feathered neighbors that live in the orchard? Oh, yes, my boy, I know all about it, you see; Cousin Olive has been telling tales. Come round here where I can see you. I can answer your question more easily than I can Dodo's. Don't look ashamed, for it is perfectly natural that you should like to pop at birds until you learn to understand the reasons why you should not. It was because you two youngsters have seen so little of Nature and the things that creep and crawl and fly, that I begged you from your parents for a time.

      "House People are apt to grow selfish and cruel, thinking they are the only people upon the earth, unless they can sometimes visit the homes of the Beast and Bird Brotherhood, and see that these can also love and suffer and work like themselves.

      "Now, my boy, before we begin to learn about the birds I will partly answer your question, and you will be able to answer it yourself before summer is over. Animal life should never be taken except for some good purpose. Birds are killed by scientists that their structure and uses may be studied—just as doctors must examine human bodies. But if you kill a bird, of what use is its dead body to you?"

      "I would like to see if I could hit it, and then—I—guess," hesitating, "I could find out its name better if I had it in my hand."

      "Ah, Nat, my lad, I thought so; first to see if you can hit it, and perhaps because you want to know the bird's name. Did you ever think of trying to cut off one of your fingers with your jack-knife, to see if you could do it, or how it is made?"

      "Why, no, uncle, it would hurt, and I couldn't put it on again, and it wouldn't do me any good anyway, for I could find out about it by asking a doctor, without hurting myself."

      "Yes, that is right; and for the present you can learn enough about birds without shooting them yourself, and if you learn your lesson well you will never shoot a song-bird."

      "May we see the book you are writing, Uncle Roy, and learn all about the birds out of it?"

      "It is written in words too long and difficult for you to understand. Here is a page on the desk—see if you can read it."

      Nat stood by the Doctor's chair, but the longer he looked at the page the more puzzled he became, and at last he said, "I think, if you please, I'd rather have a book with only the birds' plain American names." Then he spelled out slowly, "C-y-a-n-o-c-i-t-t-a c-r-i-s-t-a-t-a. Why, that's Latin, but it only means Blue Jay."

      "Couldn't you write a little book for us, uncle—just a common little book, all in plain words?" pleaded Dodo. "There's plenty of paper here, and of course the know-how is all in your head; because Olive says you know about every bird that lives in our America—and then you need not put them quite all in our book."

      "Bless your innocent heart! How many different kinds of birds do you think there are in 'our America,' my little Yankee?" "More than a hundred, I guess," said Dodo after a long pause.

      "Nearly a thousand, my lady!"

      "A thousand! I think we couldn't remember so many. Does Olive know about 'nearly a thousand'?"

      "No, nor about a quarter of them, Dodo. There are a great many birds that are rare or curious, but are not very interesting to people like you and me," said Olive.

      "Suppose you make us a little book about some of the very nicest American birds," put in Nat, who had been looking at the row of stuffed birds in one of the cases, and began to feel a real interest in knowing their names and something