300 CONCLUSION. 



sung at a distance, especially just before evening, appeared to in- 

 fluence and win upon him. If we did but look at him, he listened less 

 attentively, and grew disturbed; but if we turned aside our gaze, he 

 came to the brink of the cage, stretched out his long, fawn-like neck 

 (of a charming mouse-like gray), raised every now and then his head, 

 his body remaining motionless, with a keen inquiring eye. With 

 evident avidity, he tasted and enjoyed this unexpected pleasure, with 

 e'ratefal recollection, and delicate and sensitive attention. 



This same avidity he felt a minute aftei-wards for his food. He 

 was fain to live, he devoured the poppy, forgetfulness. 



A woman's songs, Toussenel had told me, are those which affect 

 them most; not the vivacious aria of a wayward damsel, but a soft, 

 sad melody. Schubert's " Serenade " had a peculiar influence upon 

 our nightingale. He seemed to feel and recognize himself in that 

 German soul, as tender as it was profound. 



His voice, however, he did not regain. When transported to my 

 house, he had begun his December songs. The emotions of the 

 journey, the change of locale and of persons, the inquietude which he 

 had experienced in his new condition, and, above all, the ferocious 

 welcome, the robin's assault, had too deeply moved him. He 

 grew tranquil, asked no more of us ; but the muse, so rudely 

 interrupted, was thenceforth silent, and did not awake until 

 spring. 



Meanwhile, he certainly knew that the person who sang afar ofi' 

 wished him no evil ; he apparently supposed her to be a nightingale 

 of another form. She might without difficulty approach, and even 

 put her hand in his cage. He regarded intently what she did, but 

 did not stir. 



It became a curious question to me, who had not contracted with 

 him this musical alliance, to know if he would also accept me. I 

 showed no indiscreet eagerness, knowinof that even a look, at certain 

 moments, vexes him. For many days, therefore, I kept my attention 

 fixed on the old books or papers of the fourteenth century, without 

 observing him. But he, he would examine me very curiously when 



