Chapter XVIII: The Little Nurses

Minnie almost fell asleep on her way back to the elm, and found it hard to keep up with yellow-bird, who flew on briskly as ever.

Her long morning journey, the labor and hurry of making her cloak, as well as the effort to bring the humming-bird home, and the party afterwards, the dancing and late hours, tired her so much--so much that she feared all the rest in the world would not make her strong again.

And when the tree was reached, Minnie's friends did not, as usual, offer her their nest. They must keep it now for the eggs. Cold and weary as she was, the little girl must lie down among damp leaves, with no other bed than a mossy place which she found on the rough bark of the elm.

In the morning she still felt tired, lame, and stiff, yet her spirits came back with the sunshine, and when she told yellow-bird she had not strength enough to fly away with him, he stayed and sung to her a while, and afterwards brought her delicious berries from the wood, all sweet and ripe, and cool with dew.

With such an attentive friend to supply her wants, it was not very hard to sit quietly upon her couch of moss, so green and velvety, with sunshine all about her on the leaves, and the pleasant prospect below.

You will remember that the tree was full of inhabitants, and our Minnie had made friends with almost all of them. When well and active, she had never passed them without a pleasant word, or at least a nod of welcome; and, now that she was sick, they were most happy to sit and talk with her, or offer their assistance.

They brought her presents, each in his kind. The bee came up from among the clover-blossoms, to place clear drops of honey on the leaf beside his little friend. The silent ant stopped a moment to tell the news, and presented a morsel of sugar which she had hoarded in her nest till it was brown with age. Indigo-bird brought a berry, blue as his wings. Some of the birds brought good fat angle-worms or snails, which would be dainty morsels to them. These Minnie laid aside for her friend Mr. Yellow-bird, although she thanked the givers politely, as if what they brought were her own favorite food.

This was not deceitful, because what Minnie enjoyed was the thoughtful kindness of her friends, and not their gifts. The berries were sweet, to be sure, but their friendship was sweeter.

Master Squirrel came among the rest. He and a spider of his acquaintance had made Minnie a beautiful parasol, with the humming-bird's bill for a handle, and a wild rose for the top.

The pink cup of this flower, turned downward as it was, cast such a glow upon Minnie's pale face, that Master Squirrel thought he had never before seen her look so handsome.

Soon, tired of listening to his coarse compliments, the little girl asked what else it was that he kept so nicely covered in his hands.

"O, that's my mother's offering!" he replied. "How the old woman would have scolded if I had forgotten to give it to you!"

"Pray, let me have it. How kind your mother always is!"

"Except when her nest is too clean, eh? Well, she saw me working over the humming-bird's carcass, and thought, as the meat was fresh, perhaps you'd like a scrap cooked for your dinner."

"Cooked meat! O, I haven't tasted a morsel since I left my father's house!" said Minnie, in delight. "Where could your mother have found the fire, though?"

"Not far off the woods are burning,--took fire in the dry season, as they often do,--and there were plenty of coals; so madam cut off the humming-bird's wing, and broiled it--O, my!--till it smells so nice that it made my mouth water to bring it to you!"

He lifted the cover, and there, on a green leaf, lay the dainty wing, all crisp and smoking now. Minnie relished her dinner more than words can tell.