74 THE SPARROW 



costume, scarcely brightened up by a white and black tie 

 round the throat and a yellowish line on the wings, the 

 sparrow, with its vulgar manners, its monotonous, 

 cry, makes no outside show; but it is one of these people 

 that one must not judge by its clothes. It is like one of 

 those ugly persons, who are bewitching when their fea- 

 tures are in full play. The charm of the sparrow consists 

 in the saucy liveliness of its hazel-nut coloured eye, in its 

 skipping movements, in the play of its frolicsome coun- 

 tenance and the pretty wagging of its head. 



In Paris sparrows are in their true medium. The Pari- 

 sians are fond of them and they are fond of the Parisians, 

 and the jolly, saucy bird is impregnated with all the faults 

 and all the virtues of the population in the midst of which 

 it lives familiarly. It loves the noisy, animated public 

 roads; it is fond of crowds, and it has taken from the Ga- 

 min de Paris, the taste of loitering about the streets like a 

 vagrant. It is not very domestic. Its brother, the tree 

 sparrow, builds a regular nest on a tree ; the Parisian 

 sparrow, nestles rather at random, in the hole of some 

 wall, in the gutter of a roof, or behind some window 

 shutter. There, hastily, without any artistic rules it piles 

 together all sorts of rags, bits of straw or hay, but only 

 just what is necessary to build and line a nest. It does 

 not loiter long in its dwelling. The noises of the street are 

 too tempting to be resisted. Presto ! As soon as the 

 young ones are feathered, you can see them flying on the 



