August 15th, six o'clock
I crumbled some bread before the little orphan , but he did not know how to peck it with his bill . I tried to catch him , but he escaped into the forsaken nest . What will become of him there , if his mother does not come back ! August 15th , six o'clock . -- This morning , on opening my window , I found the little bird dying upon the tiles ; his wounds showed me that he had been driven from the nest by his unworthy mother . I tried in vain to warm him again with my breath ; I felt the last pulsations of life ; his eyes were already closed , and his wings hung down ! I placed him on the roof in a ray of sunshine , and I closed my window .