8U0 CONCLUSION. 
sung at a distance, especially just before evening, appeared to in- 
fluence and win upon him. If we did but look at him, he listened less 
attentively, and grew disturbed; but if we turned aside our gaze, he 
came to the brink of the cage, stretched out his long, fawn-like neck 
(of a charming mouse-like gray), raised every now and then his head, 
his body remaining motionless, with a keen inguiring eye. With 
evident avidity, he tasted and enjoyed this unexpected pleasure, with 
grateful recollection, and delicate and sensitive attention. 
This same avidity he felt a minute afterwards for his food. He 
was fain to live, he devoured the poppy, forgetfulness. 
A woman’s songs, Toussenel had told me, are those which affect 
them most; not the vivacious aria of a wayward damsel, but a soft, 
sad melody. Schubert’s “Serenade” had a peculiar influence upon 
our nightingale. He seemed to feel and recognize himself in that 
German soul, as tender as it was profound. 
His voice, however, he did not regain. When transported to my 
house, he had begun his December songs. The emotions of the 
journey, the change of locale and of persons, the inquietude which he 
had experienced in his new condition, and, above all, the ferocious 
welcome, the robin’s assault, had too deeply moved him. He 
grew tranquil, asked no more of us; but the muse, so rudely 
interrupted, was thenceforth silent, and did not awake until 
spring. 
Meanwhile, he certainly knew that the person who sang afar off 
wished him no evil; he apparently supposed her to be a nightingale 
of another form. She might without difficulty approach, and even 
put her hand in his cage. He regarded intently what she did, but 
did not stir. 
It became a curious question to me, who had not contracted with 
him this musical alliance, to know if he would also accept me. I 
showed no indiscreet eagerness, knowing that even a look, at certain 
moments, vexes him. For many days, therefore, I kept my attention 
fixed on the old books or papers of the fourteenth century, without 
observing him, But he, he would examine me very curiously when 
