A Street Troubadour 



dour. The Canaries had voluntarily returned 

 to their cages, or permitted themselves to be 

 caught. But Randy hopped out of a back win- 

 dow, chirruped a few times, sang a defiant an- 

 swer to the elevated-railway whistle, and keeping 

 just out of reach of all attempts to capture him, 

 he began to explore the brick wilderness about. 

 He had not been a prisoner for generations. 

 He readily accepted the new condition of free- 

 dom, and within a week was almost as wild as 

 any of his kin, and had degenerated into a little 

 street rowdy like the others, squabbling among 

 them in the gutter, giving them blow for blow, 

 or surprising all hearers with occasional bursts 

 of Canary music delivered with Sparrow energy. 



Ill 



This, then, was Randy, who had selected the 

 bird-house for a nesting-place, and the reason 

 for his intemperance in the matter of twigs is 

 now clear. The only nest he had ever known 

 was of basketwork ; therefore a proper nest is 

 made of twigs. 



Within a few days Randy appeared with a 



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