112 ATTACKED BY TRAMPS. 



go in, so she flew to a perch that ran through 

 the cage, and stood close to the wires, while he 

 went to the same perch inside, and fed her 

 through the wires. 



About this time, too, the bluebird talk nearly- 

 ceased, and instead of it the lovely song of three 

 notes was heard all day, and a little change they 

 made in it — throwing in a "grace note" be- 

 tween the second and third — greatly added to 

 its charm. Now, too, spring had really come, 

 and I waited only for warm days to let them go 

 and set up their homestead in freedom. The first 

 mild day in May the window was opened for 

 them. The female flew first to a tree in front 

 of the house, where she was greeted in the rud- 

 est manner by the bird-tramps which infest our 

 streets, — the house-sparrows. They began to 

 assemble around her, no doubt prepared for at- 

 tack, when she gave a loud cry of distress, and 

 out flew her valiant knight to her aid. After a 

 moment's pause by her side, they both flew, and 

 we saw the gentle pair no more. 



This true chronicle began with a quotation 

 from Lanier ; it shall end with one from Har- 

 riet Prescott Spofford : — 



" A bit of heaven itself, he flew, 

 When earth seemed heaven with bees and bloom, 

 'South wind, and sunshine, and perfume; 

 And morning were not morn without him. • 

 Winging, springing, always flinging. 

 Flinging music all about him." 



