Another of my airy creatures breathes such sweet music out of her little instrumental throat that it might make mankind to think that miracles are not ceased.  We might well be lifted up above the earth and say, Lord, what music hast thou provided for the saints in heaven, when thou affordest bad men such music on earth?—­Izaak Walton.

The fine pasture adjoining was a popular resort for some handsome birds that often visited it as a playground.  They were said to be relatives of ours, but I do not think they were closer than seventh or eighth cousins, which is so distant that it doesn’t count—­especially if one doesn’t want it to.

All I know is that their family name was the same as ours, Icteridae, and means something or other, I forget what.  It was a good honorable name, however, and our branch was as proud of our ancestry as any Daughter of the American Revolution could possibly be.

There were some tall weeds growing along the margin of a little stream in the pasture which produced quantities of delicious seeds, and to these we often repaired when we wanted a choice breakfast, as well as to watch the playful pastimes of these queer bipeds.

What would you think of a bird taking a bareback ride on a cow?  They were extremely fond of settling themselves on the cattle which browsed in the field and presented a truly comical picture as they complacently gathered in little groups on the backs of those huge animals.  Moving slowly along munching the dewy grass, first on one side, then on the other, the cows did not seem particularly to mind their saucy bareback riders.  Occasionally they would toss their heads backward, when up all the birds would fly into the air only to descend again as soon as the cattle were quiet.

As I said, they were very handsome.  At a short distance they looked to be clothed in black, but the breast and neck were really a very rich brown, with the rest of the body like jet and as lustrous as satin.  They were not general favorites with the other birds on account of some dishonorable tricks which they did on the sly.  For instance, they never troubled themselves to make nests, but watched their chance to sneak in and lay their eggs, only one in a place, in the nests of other birds.  For some reason their eggs always hatch a little sooner than the eggs rightfully belonging there, consequently the foster-parents, not knowing of the deception, are quite delighted with the first little one that comes out of the shell, and immediately fly off to get food for it.  This is very unfortunate, for during their absence their own eggs get cold and will not hatch.  After a time the old birds grow disgusted and tumble the poor eggs all out of the nest and bestow their whole attention to the juvenile cowbird, entirely ignorant of the fact that they are the victims of a “put-up job.”