'A/r BIRDS' 13 



little fat arms over its toys that one can but laugh 

 at it. One ought perhaps rather to sigh than to 

 laugh to find so many unpleasant human qualities 

 in such pretty little beings ; but 1% love my birds, 

 and laugh at them. My birds. I do not exactly 

 know what right I have to call them my birds ; 

 my property in them is slight if any. But I do 

 not wish for more. I would not have a bird in a 

 cage for the world : it would be a perpetual torture 

 to me until I let it out. I do not even wish to 

 tame them ; I have a dread of their becoming too 

 tame, lest it should make them careless of danger. 

 I wonder what became of the dear little robin that 

 followed me about in the garden last autumn, and 

 came at my call, and even, once, took crumbs from 

 my hand ? I did not tame it ; it presented itself 

 at my feet one day, quite tame ; and immediately 

 accepted the situation of under-gardener, sure to 

 be at hand if I began to stir the earth, or turn out 

 a plant from a flower-pot, and ready to relieve me 

 of any unfortunate worm or insect that came to 

 the surface. And O how quick it was to see 

 them ! I turned round one day to see why the 

 bird had suddenly hopped away from me, and 

 behold ! it had a large spider in its mouth, 

 struggling and kicking. And it forthwith swal- 

 lowed the same, struggles and all. It was a large 

 spider, but the bird must have had wonderful eyes 



