CHAPTER XIV. 



MY WIFE'S STOKY OF HER PET FINCHES. 



THE loss of our pet, General Bern, was deeply felt. There 

 was a sad vacancy in our home again, which we did not 

 soon expect to have filled. However, one morning, while I 



yet wept for Bern, W came in with a small cage in his 



hand, containing an English Bullfinch. 



" See !" he said, " I have brought a fine Bullfinch to 

 cheer you he sings very sweetly several German airs, and 

 it will fill Bern's place a little for you !" 



" No ! no ! I cannot let him stay no bird can take Bern's 

 place. I do not want another bird to love. Take him 

 away." 



" Poor little Bobby. I found him in the room of a rough 

 fellow, who did not care for him, and who gladly exchanged 

 the sullen bird, as he called him, for some trinket. A little 

 girl whom I saw there told me how sweetly he sang, and I 

 determined to have him at any rate. Must I take the poor 

 bird away ? He will be so startled among my clamorers, 

 that he will not sing to me !" 



" Well, let the fellow stay though, I assure you, I cannot 

 love him !" 



So he hung the bird-cage on a nail in my room, and I 

 tried to turn my back upon him. I could not help ob- 

 serving, however, that he seemed to relish the glow of my 

 wood fire, and the warmth of the room, greatly; and was 

 commencing to dress his feathers and to jump about in his 

 little cage with quite a cheerful air. 



