THE BIRD OF SOLITUDE. 29 



wings, raise head and tail, and in that curious 

 position strut around before the glass ; calling 

 softly, with the sweetest and most tender twit- 

 tering, though so low it could scarcely be heard. 

 After some time of this coaxing, he would be- 

 come disheartened, and stand motionless, with 

 feathers puffed out, staring at the bird in the 

 glass, and looking so grieved and unhappy that 

 I could not endure it, but drew a shield before 

 that misleading piece of furniture. 



He never showed the least fear of me, and 

 grew more familiar every day. But I had him 

 only a month. One evening he was well and 

 lively as usual ; the next morning I found him 

 dead on the floor, to my great surprise and 

 grief. 



