S<8 " How now ? " said Sylvester. " Is my 

 little bull-finch Anselm returned to me ? 

 Surely thy tender body was long since laid 

 beneath the roses, but now, behold, it is given 

 to me to stroke thy glossy black head once 

 more and to take pleasure in thy pretty ways. 

 And now, indeed, I remember the tuneful 

 notes which used to shed a balm upon my 

 spirit. Anselm, canst thou still sing the Song 

 of the Exile ? " 



S " That I can," said Anselm. " How should 

 I forget aught that gave thee pleasure ? " and 

 raising his head he let the notes stream from 

 his parted beak. 



%& " It is the same," said Sylvester, " the very 

 same," and so, with Anselm on his shoulder, 

 and Barbara zigzagging from side to side 

 (but never losing him from view), and Justin 

 and Ambrose following faithfully at his heels, 

 our kind Sylvester went forward again along 

 the road, until at last they all came to a stop 

 before the great gate of gold which is set in 

 the outer wall of the city. 



56 



