io6 More Tales of the Birds 



then we sing Listen!" And from the neigh- 

 bouring tavern there came a chorus of coarse 

 voices. 



"This is a jolly street," the Canary went on. 

 " I was brought up in a dealer's shop in the 

 East End, in very low society, in a gas-lit 

 garret among dirty children. Here we can be 

 out of doors in summer, and see a bit of blue 

 overhead now and then ; and in the winter I 

 am warm inside, with plenty of seed and water, 

 two perches in my cage, and both of them all 

 to myself. It's a life of real luxury, and makes 

 one sing. I could go on at it all day, trying 

 to convince those miserable black Sparrows that 

 they do not know what happiness means. But 

 really it chills one's spirits a little to have 

 another bird close by one who mopes and 

 won't sing. Perhaps you can't? I have heard 

 the dealer say that there are birds that can't: 

 but I didn't believe it. One can't help one's self, 

 out it comes like a hemp-seed out of its 

 shell." 



The Canary rattled off again for full five 

 minutes, and then said abruptly, 



