“That is the saddest part of caging wild birds,” said the Doctor.  “Not one person in fifty is willing to give them the care they need.  Put the cage under those bushes, Nat.

“I began by asking, Where do we find this bird?  Living in Florida in sunshine, among the shady redwoods of Kentucky, and in all the bitterness of our northern winters.  He varies his habits to suit his surroundings, and roves about after the nesting season; in mild climates he sings for six months of the year—­from March until August.  But one of the strangest things about him is that he wanders most when the trees are bare and he can be so easily seen that hundreds of his kind are shot for their gay feathers, or trapped to sell alive for cage birds.  When snow is on the ground he is very conspicuous.”

“Why doesn’t he get into evergreens or cedar bushes?” asked Rap.

“He does when he can and often sings when so hidden; but he is not a very quick-witted bird and seems to move awkwardly, as if his topknot were as heavy as a drum major’s bearskin.

“But no one can find fault with his song; it first rings out loud like a shout, then ends as clearly as the bubbling of the stream near which he likes best to live—­’Cheo-cheo-chehoo-cheo-qr-qr-qrr-r-r.’”

“Isn’t it time to let them out?” whispered Dodo.  “Mrs. Cardinal is coughing again dreadfully!”

“In a moment.  Turn the cage sideways, Nat, so that we can watch them through the bushes—­so, and please keep quite still.  Now, Dodo, open the little door—­carefully.”

For two or three minutes there was perfect silence.  Four young people squeezed behind a tree, and a Wise Man down on his hands and knees behind a stump—­all watching two forlorn birds, who did not understand that liberty was theirs for the taking.

Mrs. Cardinal put out her head, then took a step and hopped along the ground into a cornel bush; where, after looking around a moment, she began to smooth her poor feather’s.  Another minute and Mr. Cardinal followed, giving a sharp chip like a loud Sparrow call.  They both hopped off as if they were not half sure their freedom was real.

“I think they might have sung to us,” whispered Dodo.

“Too soon,” said the Doctor; “but I’m sure that we have not seen or heard the last of our Cardinals.”

“Hist!” said Nat, “they are taking a bath in the brook this side of the stepping-stones.”  And so they were.

The Cardinal

Length eight and a quarter inches.

Male:  splendid cardinal-red, with a black throat and band about the coral-red bill, and a fine long crest, like a Cedar Waxwing’s.

Female:  yellowish-brown with a little red in her crest, wings, and tail, and her face not so black as her mate’s.

A Citizen of the eastern United States to the plains and from Florida to the Great Lakes, nesting wherever found.