174 LITTLE JAKE 
of Jake, he trimmed his feathers an' was peart as 
possible, and never pined a bit. It took the heart 
clean out of me, for I could see he'd be goin' before 
long. I used to go to work an' come home agin like 
as if I was in a dream. The end on it come quicker 
than we reckoned for. One evenin', a bit before the 
sun went down, we was up in the room, mother an 
me, talkin' to him. Twas bright as gold, the sun 
was, an' the tops of the firs was peaked out clear agin 
the sky ; when he says, weak, an' low like, " Dad, lift 
me up, an' let me look out of the winder." 
' I lifted him up, an' took him to the winder. He 
laid there for a time ah ! so quiet lookin' out. 
Then he looks up in my face, an' he says, quite peart 
an' lively like : " Dad ! it's gettin' lighter, and / 
see " They were the last words of my poor little 
Jake, for he died with them on his lips : yes, he lay 
dead in my arms. Whatever he had a sight on, it 
made him happy ; he had a smile on his face, an' he 
kept the same look on him when he laid in his coffin. 
' Mother thought for the minnit he'd gone to 
sleep ; he went so gentle like. It broke us both clean 
down for a time right clean down, it did ; but that 
has passed, and the smart is gone, and we hope for 
the best, though 'twas hard to think so then. We 
did all we knowed for his bird for his sake, 'cause 
