up in my handkerchief, but that did not suit him at all. I could not do anything with him, until I let him get on my bare neck, and covered him with the trimming of my robe _de nuit_. He was soaking wet and shivering like a person having a hard chill. He kept very still until his feathers were dry enough to be dressed. Such shaking, dressing of feathers, and prinking I never saw. When his toilet was made to suit him he nestled down under my chin, and we both slept for an hour. Every day we go through the same performance after the bath. One day I wanted to do something in my dressing-room, so thought Little Billee could take his bath and dry himself. Soon I began to hear very mournful peeps, and I came out to find Little Billee, soaking wet, standing in front of my bed, thinking I was there and teasing for me to take him. Of course I could not resist such pleading, so to bed we went. I know I am completely spoiling him, but he is such a dear no one could help it. Little Billee has taken a great interest in this tale, and when I write is always on my shoulder, arm or hand. His favorite place to sit is on my left hand between my first finger and thumb, as they hold my portfolio on my lap, and peck at my paper and pen. One day he took the pen full of ink into his bill then threw the ink all over my paper. Little Billee has great fun taking the paper off from the bottom of his cage, and carrying it all about the room, and will take it out as fast as I put it in. The other day he went into his cage, took the furthest corner of the paper in his bill, backed out bringing the paper over his head until it was all on the floor, then went over to the opposite corner, took that in his bill, backed off the paper until he came to the end, then went around in a circle like the wind, for perhaps a dozen times, with the paper perfectly straight out just like a sail. After a few moments I put the paper back, he took it right out in the same way and did it all over again. A number of weeks have passed since I began Little Billee's biography. He grows more wonderful every day, and his devotion to me is simply marvelous. Every day he does some new cunning thing and seems to understand everything I say to him. The other day he would not come to me when I put down my hand, but ran across the room. After trying for some time to make him mind, I got up and said, "Billee, I am going away and leave you," and started out into the hall. He came chasing after me, and now will always do it when I tell him I am going to leave him. If I go out of my room and tell him he _cannot_ go, he will sit on a chair by an open window or play about on the floor for an hour at a time, and never think of flying out of the window or going out of the door. (_Continued on page 48._) [Illustration: FROM COL. CHI. ACAD. SCIENCES. SAND-HILL CRANE. 1/6 Life-size. COPYRIGHT 1899, NATURE STUDY PUB. CO., CHICAGO.] THE SAND-HILL CRANE.