“PHBE.” 
Why this brief vision of 
golden filigree that seems sud- 
denly flung across my fancy? 
What is the talisman? “I’ve cheated ye, per chick o pee, per 
chick o pee.” What but the tiny goldfinch that has passed over- 
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head in its looping flight, festooning the ether in glancing drap- 
ery of black and gold, each embroidered loop pinned with a wisp 
of song! The crimson tufts of the thistle-blooms now seem hov- 
ering there, or in magic fruition, the silvery down glistens in the 
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