CHAPTER II. 



W ILL y u acce P t a Nightingale?" began a letter I 

 received one day from a hitherto unknown 

 correspondent. 



I paused when I had got thus far: "accept a Night- 

 ingale?" the King of songsters, whom I had always con- 

 sidered it was little short of sacrilege to cage, especially 

 since a man I knew lost fourteen of the incomparable 

 minstrels of the night in a week or two from the date 

 of their capture. No! I would be no party to such a 

 deed as wantonly to deprive of its liberty the most 

 delightful musician in the world. 



When I read a little more of the letter, however, I 

 began to see that I had been somewhat hasty, and 

 that I might retreat from my position not only without 

 loss of dignity but with positive honour, not to speak 

 of advantage, for the bird had been brought up by 

 hand from the nest, was two years old and perfectly 

 tame. That quite altered the matter, so I wrote to 

 accept the lady's offer with many thanks. 



