THE SOLITAIRE. 



that day he was treated as he deserved, being 

 always at liberty in the room, and enjoying the 

 distinguished consideration of a houseful of peo- 

 ple and birds. Before he came to understand 

 that his life had changed, however, I feared he 

 would die. He did not mope, he simj)ly cared 

 for nothing. For more than twenty-four hours 

 he crouched on the floor of his cage, utterly in- 

 different even to a comfortable position ; food he 

 would not look at. I talked to him ; I screened 

 him from noisy neighbors ; I made his cage at- 

 tractive ; I spared no effort to win him, — and 

 at last I succeeded. He took up again the bur- 

 den of life, hopped upon a perch, and began to 

 dress his feathers. Soon he was induced to eat, 

 and then he began to notice the bird voices about 

 him. Like other of the more intelligent birds, 

 once won, he was entirely won. He was never 

 in the least wild with me after that experience ; 

 never hesitated to j)ut himself completely in my 

 power, or to avail himself of my help if he 

 needed it in any way. Says another bird-lov^er, 

 " Let but a bird — that being so free and un- 

 controlled — be willing to draw near and con- 

 clude a friendship with jo\x^ and lo, how your 

 heart is moved ! " 



It is hard to tell in what way this bird im- 

 pressed every one with a sense of his imj^erial 

 character, but it is true that he did. He never 



