Nicodemus was a pet blackbird. A sleet storm broke the bough on which the nest was built, and all the birds, save one, were killed in the fall. This one, Nicodemus, was placed in an old hat lined with wool, and kept near the fire until he was ready to fly about the room. He was an apt scholar, and soon knew his name, responding readily to every call. When the weather became warm he was allowed the freedom of the yard. Whenever his mistress saw a stray cat about she would go out on the porch to his cage, strike upon it, and call: “Nicodemus!” “Nicodemus!” whereupon the bird would fly into his cage for safety.

One day an aged gentleman called at the house. Nicodemus came into the parlor. At first he nestled upon his mistress’ shoulder, but his curiosity seemed much excited, and he soon flew to the old gentleman, alighted upon his bald head, when he began a vigorous scratching.

“For shame, Nicodemus! Come here at once,” cried the lady. He obeyed, but with a really abashed look.

Belle Paxson Drury.