THE LANGUAGE OF BIRDS. 
69 
felt pleased and grateful for the trouble I had taken 
to convince him, begging me to take the poor little 
bird, and save it from the clav^^s of Varmer Stubbs's 
cat. 
Could I have restored the little innocent to its 
disconsolate parents, most gladly vs^ould I have done 
so ; but as that v^^as impossible, I took it from him, 
brought it home, and, after some trouble and care 
had the pleasure of seeing my little nursling thrive 
amazingly ; and no creature could be more grateful 
for my attention, fluttering its wings, and chirping 
with all its might, whenever I approached him ; and, 
as he was left at large when he grew older, follow- 
ing me from room to room, and round the garden, 
perching on my shoulder when I sat down. It was 
my usual custom every morning to open the window 
of the room where I kept him, when he would im- 
mediately fly out, and take his station on a cherry- 
tree in the garden, and entertain me for hours with 
his sweetest notes ; but if I called him he would 
instantly return, and perch on my chair. When the 
cold weather set in, he confined himself entirely to 
the room ; but the following spring, he resumed his 
flights to the garden, returning at my call. One day, 
