io8 More Tales of the Birds 



sing here ? With plenty to eat and nothing to 

 do and a whole street of men and women to sing 

 to, what more can you want? I fear you have 

 a selfish and discontented disposition, want of 

 education, no doubt. But we must make allow- 

 ance for every one, as Griggs the dealer used 

 to say when he got in new birds that couldn't 

 sing properly." 



" I don't know why I can't sing here, the 

 Linnet answered, rousing itself a little, " but I 

 can't. You see we used to sing on the Downs as 

 we flew about in the sun and the breeze and the 

 sweet-scented air ; and here I am shut up in foul 

 air, with my wings tingling all day, and the song 

 sticks in my throat. There was a little brook 

 where we lived, that came out of the hill-side and 

 sang gently all day and night as it ran down 

 among the daisies and the gorse. We couldn't 

 have gone on singing if it had had to stop run- 

 ning. We drank of it, and bathed in it, and 

 listened to it ; and then we danced away over the 

 hills, singing, or perched on a gorse-spray, sing- 

 ing. And we knew what our singing meant ; but 

 I don't know what yours means. It's just a little 



