

IN THE LOOKING-GLASS. 229 



nails had been driven, though they were so hid- 

 den by the confused pattern I that could not 

 see them. Before the walls he hovered slowly, 

 and the discovery of an opening was the signal 

 for work. One claw inserted under the broken 

 edge of the paper was perch enough, and the 

 first intimation of the mischief was the falling 

 of bits of plaster and fluttering fragments of 

 paper. Of thus amusing himself he could never 

 be cured, and many unsightly places remained 

 to tell the tale. While the head of the family 

 disfigured the wall, his little spouse found occu- 

 pation in working at a paper covering the cage 

 of a gentle bird who specially disliked intrusive 

 neighbors. First she pulled out the pin that 

 held it in place, took it under a toe, and tried to 

 wrench the head off ; failing in this, she passed 

 it through her beak back and forth as she did a 

 worm, evidently to reduce it to a softer condi- 

 tion. Finding the pin intractable, she dropped 

 it, and turned her attention to the paper ; tear- 

 ing off bits, peeping under it, and constantly 

 worrying the peace-loving owner, until a roof 

 of enameled cloth, securely fastened by sewing, 

 was provided for him. 



The only one in the room whom the unlovely 

 bird found it impossible to annoy was the oriole 

 he saw in the looking-glass, and he never gave 

 up trying to reduce even him to a proper state 



