To some extent Oliver showed affection by coming most readily to me, who generally fed him, and by an odd little greeting he usually gave when I offered him my finger, gently pinching it or giving a slight peck, too mild ever to be mistaken for anger. Unfortunately this was broken up by the teasing of another member of the family, and the pecks became too severe to be altogether agreeable.
He was growing more wild and more unwilling to return to his cage, and I intended to let him go when spring came, but long before that time he got sickly and sluggish, eager for the berries and insects that were not to be found, and in spite of everything I tried in their stead, he died late in December.
But though Oliver Twist lived so short a time he taught me many interesting lessons, one of which, in particular, I shall long remember: never try to keep a fruit- and insect-eating bird through the winter, for no amount of willingness and care can supply him with proper food. Take nature's word for it--she knows quite well what she is about when she sends them all off to the south.
Last year, at Brandon, Vermont, the tent-caterpillars were so abundant as to be a serious injury and annoyance. They lay in close rows, making wide bands on the tree trunks. They spun down from the upper branches and fell upon the unfortunate passers-by. They crawled through the grass in such numbers that it seemed to move in a mass as one looked down upon it. Under these circumstances, birds might be expected to do strange things,--and they did.
The pair of Downy Woodpeckers which lived near us were frequently seen on the ground picking up the crawling tent-caterpillars. They seemed to prefer taking them from the ground to taking them from the trees, though there were more on the tree-trunks than on the ground even. And the Woodpeckers seemed to have no difficulty in moving on the ground, though they moved more slowly than when dodging around a tree.
Two mountain-ash trees on the place were infested by borers, though only slightly and only near the ground, and at the foot of one of these trees the Downy Woodpeckers made many a stand, while they probed the borer-holes with their bills.
The Cuckoos came boldly into the village and fed and fed, flying about quite openly. The Nuthatches flew to a band of caterpillars on a tree-trunk, and were so busy and absorbed in devouring the crawlers that I could put my hand on them before they started to fly, and then they merely flew to another tree close by, and attacked another mass of caterpillars.