[ By the time he returns, Harold has several hefty books laid open and a notebook out where he's taking notes. It's really so ridiculous to be living without the internet. Harold never thought he'd have to return to the pre-world wide web dark ages. At least he's old enough to know how to use a library properly, and isn't at a total loss.

The bird is, of course, still squawking away, making plaintive chittering noises from its shoebox. ]

Until I release it, I expect it, [ Harold says dourly. He loves birds but he's never tried to keep one, for good reason. ] A few weeks. Though it may settle down a bit once I feed it.

[ Harold has a plate of very plain scrambled eggs -- no oil or seasoning -- that is cooling next to his books. He can at least manage to scramble an egg on his own. ]

The tweezers, please? [ That was on the list. He's not going to put his computer tools near a baby bird; they can be astoundingly gross. ]