22 MEMOIR OF THOMAS BEWICK. 



pillars, with the help of a rope or a handkerchief, 

 as I used to do in getting up large trees. It 

 happened one evening, when my master, as usual, 

 came to let me out, that I was sitting astride upon 

 the capital of one of the pillars, where he did not 

 see me. He called on me, but I made no answer, 

 and he then posted off to see if the door was fast, 

 and having ascertained that it was, he marched 

 along the aisles in great perturbation of mind, 

 frequently exclaiming, " God bless me ! " &c. 

 When he was gone, I slipped down, and found 

 the choir door only bolted on the inside, so I 

 waded the river and posted home, and slept in 

 my old asylum, the hay loft. I have frequently 

 bitterly repented of having given a man I after- 

 wards so highly respected through life so much 

 pain and trouble. 



I have before noticed that the first time I felt 

 compassion for a dumb animal, was upon my 

 having' caught a hare in rny arms. The next 

 occurrence of the kind happened with a bird. I 

 had no doubt knocked many down with stones 

 before, but they had escaped being taken. This 

 time, however, the little victim dropped from the 

 tree, and I picked it up. Struck with its beauty, 

 I instantly ran into the house with it. It was 

 alive, and looked me piteously in the face ; and, 

 as I thought, could it have spoken, it would have 

 asked me why I had taken away its life. I felt 

 greatly hurt at what I had done, and did not 

 quit it all the afternoon. I turned it over and 

 over, admiring its plumage, its feet, its bill, and 

 every part of it. It was a bullfinch. I did not 

 then know its name, but I was told it was a 

 "little Matthew Martin." This was the last bird 



