JACK: A BIOGRAPHY. 
91 
blacksmith’s family, who were industrious, hard-working people, 
not inclined to*vvaste much time over a black imp of a bird, 
whose relations swarmed everywhere and were shot down by 
dozens by the keepers and crowscarers and anyone and every- 
one as vermin. Doubtless Jack began to find out what a hazel- 
switch meant, and also that a dish-cloth could be put to other 
uses than that of wiping dishes. 
One day there was a tea-party at the blacksmith’s house, and 
a plate of hot cakes was brought into the sitting-room and put 
down inside the fender to keep hot for the expected guests, 
under the watchful eye of the blacksmith’s mother. Whether 
the dear old lady dozed, or whether she was simply absorbed in 
her knitting, there is no one now to tell ; but it was the house- 
wifely daughter bustling about her preparations who was the 
first to notice that the pile of dainties in the fender was visibly 
diminishing without any apparent agenc}’. Calling her mother’s 
attention to the fact, she left the room again, on hospitable 
thoughts intent, and presently when the room was still, a pair of 
beady grey eyes peered out from below the deep flounce of the 
old-fashioned sofa, and Jack slowly crept into view. Picking 
his way on tip-toe across the room, with tail and bill elevated 
in the air as if he were afraid they would catch somewhere and 
make a rustle, he snatched a piece of buttered cake and rapidly 
disappeared with it under the sofa flounce again, where he 
shared his ill-gotten gains with the house cat. 
I think it was after this last escapade that the patience of 
Jack’s owners gave way, and Jack was consigned to a wicker 
cage, where he would, if he could, have committed suicide before 
the first day was over. In prison Jack soon got to look quite 
disreputable. He wore his beautiful black tail down to a bunch 
of shabby stumps that looked as if they had been used for 
cleaning pipes, brushing them against the bars. He broke the 
upper mandible of his strong bill trying to peck a hole through 
the roof or the floor of his prison, and wearied himself in vain 
attempts to untwist the fastening of the hateful door. He never 
gave up trying to get free from a place where there was nothing 
to do for a bird of mind and character, and as the -weary days 
wore on, and all his poor little efforts to regain his freedom 
failed, the truth slowly dawned on Jack’s mind and his heart 
began to break. His owners, busy and pre-occupied as they 
were, were too kindly-natured to neglect any living thing in 
their care, and soon noticed the bird’s altered looks ; and coming 
to the true conclusion that Jack was pining to death in prison, 
sent him down one night as a present to my sister, who had 
often expressed an affection for the bird. 
One evening a servant came in with a covered basket, out of 
which she produced Jack : then delivering herself of the polite 
message sent by his late owners, she betook herself to the back 
regions of the house again with the basket, leaving five grown- 
up people looking at the most disreputable semblance of a jack- 
