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abasement 011 the other. I would enter the shop quietly and

naturally, and not allow myself to be astounded by anything I

saw or heard. I would show familiarity with all the different

birds, and would boldly select what I had come for. This

seemed, the night before, easy and plain enough. After a long

and tiring walk through burning streets I at last got down East,

and after a deal of asking found the street I was in quest of.


Entering the establishment I had been in search of, I was

effusively greeted by the owner with a “Well, Sir, what can I do

for you?” The night before I had felt bold enough for anything;

now I felt all my courage oozing out of the soles of my shoes,

and old lialf-forgotten memories of the spider and the fly come

rushing to my mind. I managed to stammer lamely, “ I want a

bird.” This seemed to the owner such an obvious truism in a

bird shop that he vouchsafed no answer.


“ I want a good bird,” I tried this time. Mark the word

“good.” Properly understood, it ought to have suggested to the

man that I was a knowing old hand, and knew all about birds,

and owned probably thousands, and just out of pure cussed ness

wanted to add another to my collection. But it was not so

understood. The man of the shop seemed occupied in some

abstract calculations, and answered quite shortly: “We never

keep bad birds in this place.”


“ Well,” I said, “ will you show me some Firefiuches.”

He went to a distant part of the shop, dashed into a long, dark¬

looking cage, crowded with terrified little captives which he

denominated “ Seuegals,” and after a good bit of scrambling

produced three or four of the desired species. “ There yer are,”

he said, “ ’ow many.” He said, “’ow many” in such a tone as

to suppose that he would be mentally offended if I said less than

fifty. I said rather tamely : “ Well, I only wanted about one or

two.” “All right,” said he, “take ’em or leave ’em.” I took

the cage in my hand, held it up to the light, and opened one eye

and shut the other, as though I proposed to go shooting. Mean¬

while the man maintained a stony silence. Indeed, he appeared

not to take the slightest interest in me or my purchases. Even

curses would have been welcome. I grew frightened and

flustered; I opened the cage to get a nearer peep, and lo!

“peep,” away shot a Firefinch up to the ceiling. Still that man

said nothing; at least nothing audible. He just got a net, and

after about lialf-an-hour’s chasing, managed to get that Fire-

finch ; more dead than alive. “ Don’t 3^011 think it would be



