AT THE SIGN OF THE POINTED GABLE. 



The similarity of our circumstances 

 first drew me toward him ; we both were 

 3'oung, enthusiastic and poverty-stricken, 

 and both of us became householders on 

 the same day beneath the same roof. It 

 was a beautiful day in early May, and 

 the roof which was to shelter us hid our 

 mutual gable deep in the perfumed 

 boughs of an old apple tree. The gable 

 faced the western sky, and it was just as 

 the sun ^yas setting in a glory of golden 

 lights behind the apple blossoms, that I 

 paused in my labor of settling the simple 

 furniture of my attic, and suddenly dis- 

 covered my neighbor. 



He was perched upon the broad ledge 

 of the window regarding me suspicious- 

 ly, with as much distrust of me written 

 all over his plump, little figure as was 

 possible to an ordinary English spar- 

 row. A long, tell-tale string hung from 

 his blunt, yellow bill, and I knew direct- 

 ly that we had similar tastes. We both 

 loved the old pointed gable hidden away 

 among the apple boughs, fronting the 

 west. 



I was settled first, but then I had the 

 unfair advantage of a ready-made home 

 with ready-made furnishings. My lit- 

 tle neighbor had staked out his claim 

 merely, and his nest was still a problem. 

 Day by day the skillful little builder in- 

 dustriously brought up to the gable a 

 curious collection of odds and ends until 

 an impressive, brown edifice reared itself 

 in the safe solitude behind the shutter. 



Early one morning as I was on my 

 way down to the bank — perhaps I ought 

 to confess that I am only a modest clerk 

 with a small salary — I noticed a trim 

 nfirsery maid wheeling along a cart in 

 which sat a child busily engaged in 

 dressing a doll quite as big as herself. 

 As I passed them a long, narrow blue 

 ribbon with a pattern of tiny rosebuds 

 running daintily through the middle of 

 it, fluttered away in the light wind and 

 nestled against my coat. The child 



reached out her hands for it with the 

 unquestioning faith of childhood, and I 

 restored it to her and passed on, forget- 

 ting the incident until one afternoon 

 when my little neighbor having flown 

 away on a business errand, I seized the 

 opportunity aft'orded by his absence to 

 inspect his new home. 



Greatly to my surprise, deftly woven 

 in and out of the cunningly-wrought 

 feathers and straw and string, was the 

 dainty, rose-sprinkled, blue ribbon which 

 I had last seen in its baby owner's hands. 



"The little rascal has the artistic tem- 

 perament," I reflected, admiringly, and 

 then withdrew hastily for he was flying 

 swiftly homeward over the neighboring 

 roofs. 



Our manors and customs I soon found 

 were very much alike, and this fact drew 

 us still closer together. We both spent 

 our days in the uninteresting routine of 

 working for our daily bread, although I 

 suspect his business methods were far 

 less monotonous than mine at the bank. 

 However, at four o'clock we both were 

 ready to tlirow aside business worries, 

 and show our natural inclinations. We 

 both agreed in liking to stand at the 

 window and watch the sunsets behind 

 the old apple tree ; that is, my neighbor 

 always perched upon the very tip of the 

 pointed gable, and told the ancient world 

 his opinion of all its wonder and beauty. 

 He often made it very clear that he was 

 singing his gratitude for benefits be- 

 stowed upon him, and having poured 

 forth his soul in sheer joy of living, he 

 would retire into the softness and silence 

 of his snug, little house, and tuck his 

 head under his wing for the night. 



I feel certain that no one listened to 

 his ecstatic evensong except me, and for 

 this reason I felt a deeper, more subtle 

 sympathy with him. I, too, had tried to 

 express my grateful appreciation of all 

 the loveliness about me in occasional 

 poems, which in rare moments of cour- 



12 



