A Kindergarten Experiment 253 



he drooped. One day, as I came in, he tried to 

 fly from his perch and fell all in a heap upon the 

 floor. I picked him up, but he could not open his 

 eyes, and, with a few spasms, and an occasional gasp, 

 he passed away. While it was a relief to me, I 

 could not help feeling sorry for the poor fellow. 

 At the same time I began to question myself as to 

 whether I was morally responsible not only for the 

 miserable life he had led, but also for his death. I 

 had made him a captive, and in captivity he perished. 



At last I was reduced to one feathered pet, the 

 bright little bullfinch that had survived all his com- 

 panions. He puzzled me more and more. Appar- 

 ently he was bright enough, and usually cheerful, but 

 there was an air of sadness about him that I knew 

 was foreign to his nature. I could see he was 

 pining. I was ready to do anything in my power 

 for him, but there really seemed to be nothing for 

 me to do at least I then thought so. 



One night I came in from the club, turned on 

 the lights, and looked into his cage. I did not see 

 him on his accustomed perch, and upon looking the 

 second time found him lying on the floor of his 



