BEHIND THE BARS 285 
no hostilities were intended, he gave a long, trustful look 
into the face of his benefactress and flew to her feet. 
A gray squirrel, frisking by, stopped at the lunch-counter 
and seized an “ Educator” cracker. 
The novel sensation of an uncaged bird within touch, 
where one might notice the lovely shading of his plumage 
as one notes a flower, was memorable; but a sweeter 
surprise was in store. As we left the house, having made 
obeisance to his eminence, the Cardinal, the bird flew into 
a spruce tree and saluted us with a melodious ‘‘ Mizpah.”’ 
Then, as if reading the longing of our hearts, he opened 
his bright bill, and a song came forth such as never before 
enraptured the air of a New England March, — a song so 
copious, so free, so full of heavenly hope, that it seemed 
as if forever obliterated were the “tragic memories of his 
race.” 
As March advanced, several changes in the Cardinal were 
noted by his ever-watchful friends. He made longer trips 
abroad, returning tired and hungry. The restlessness of 
the unsatisfied heart was plainly his. His long, sweet, 
interpolating whistle, variously rendering ‘‘Peace.. . 
peace ... peace!’’ “Three cheers, three cheers,” etc., 
to these sympathetic northern ears became ‘“ Louise, 
Louise, Louise!”” Thenceforth he was Louis, the Cardinal, 
calling for his mate. 
On March 26, a kind friend took pity on the lonely 
bachelor, and a caged bird, “ Louise,’’ was introduced to 
him. In the lovely dove-coloured bird, with faint wash- 
ings of red, and the family mask and crest, the Cardinal at 
once recognized his kind. His joy was unbounded, and 
the acquaintance progressed rapidly, a mutual under- 
