14 ADVENTURES AMONG BIRDS 



month or so in winter. This was my first visit, and 

 I remember the house was like a luxurious palace to 

 my simple mind accustomed to rude surroundings. 

 It had a large paved courtyard, with ornamental 

 shrubs and orange and lemon trees growing in it, 

 and many prettily decorated rooms ; also a long passage 

 or balcony at the back, and, at its far end, facing the 

 balcony, the door of the study. This balcony at 

 the back had an irresistible attraction for me, for on 

 the wall were hung many cages containing beautiful 

 birds, some unknown to me. There were several 

 canaries, a European goldfinch, and other kinds; 

 but the bird that specially attracted me was a cardinal 

 in fine plumage, with a loud, glad, musical call-note 

 — just such a note as that with which the bird in a 

 London thoroughfare had pierced my heart. But it 

 did not sing, and I was told that it had no song except 

 that one note, or not more than two or three notes, 

 and that it was kept solely for its beauty. To me 

 it was certainly most beautiful. 



Every day during our six or seven weeks' visit I 

 used to steal out to the balcony and stand by the 

 hour watching the birds, above all the cardinal with 

 his splendid scarlet crest, thinking of the joy it would 

 be to possess such a bird. But though I could not 

 keep away from the spot, I was always ill at ease when 

 there, always glancing apprehensively at the closed 

 door at the end — for it was a glass door, and in his 

 study behind it the clergyman, a grave studious man, 

 was sitting over his books. It made me tremble to 



