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CHILDREN’S COLUMN. 
Un Chat Fidele. 
Poor pussy of old was commonly said 
To be fawning and fickle, not high bred. 
She would mince and strut, and would proudly purr ; 
She would arch her back, and stick out her fur, 
Selfishly seeking what was to be had. 
Though timid, she’s sly, and all that is bad ! 
Thus, all her life is to cupboard-love given ; 
To mend her mean w’ays men in vain have striven. 
Still would I tell how our tortoise-shell cat. 
When “Cyrus” languish’d alone on his mat ; 
Often too weak on his legs to get up 
Too poorly to bark, to romp, or to sup ; 
How to his couch little dainties she brought, 
For him to take of her own food she sought ; 
Of a bone, or a scrap, or mouse just kill’d, 
She would beg his acceptance if he will’d, 
Or, best of all, a small morsel of meat : 
He would touch with his tongue, but could not eat. 
Then with it away she would gently steal, 
And so all alone she would make her meal. 
By pure instinct taught in Dame Nature’s ways 
See the high culture here for noblest praise. 
Oft might rough hoyden or ruthless young brat, 
Learn lessons of love from this courteous cat ! 
30A, Wimpole Street. William White, F.S.A. 
Mr. Chink, the Chaffinch. — Last Easter I was staying in a village near 
Oxford, and the morning after my arrival we were sitting at breakfast when my 
host suddenly said to me : “ There’s your Chaffinch ; he wants his breakfast. 
Do get up and give him some.” “ My Chaffinch ! ” I said in surprise. “ What do 
you mean ? ” They then reminded me that two years before, when I was spending 
Christmas there, one night during a very heavy snowstorm my cousin and I were 
sitting up late over the fire in my bedroom, when there was a flapping against the 
window. Thinking it was the snow, we at first took no notice ; but the second 
lime it came flop against the window, I got up, exclaiming, “It must be a bird 
wanting to come in,” and on our opening the window in flew a very beautiful 
cock chaffinch, having evidently lost his way in the storm. Quite exhausted he flew 
straight on to my bed, and after some time the warmth began to revive him and he 
looked about, not objecting to being gently stroked. We then began to wonder 
what we should do with him, for to turn him out again that dreadful night was 
quite impossible, and there were no cages in the house. At last my cousin found 
a meat safe into which we put him, with some cotton wool, crumbs and water. 
We were half afraid that he would die in the night, but were next morning 
delighted to find him quite well and very perky — such a little beauty ! The sun 
was now shining brightly and the snow melting fast, so we let him out, feeling 
quite sad at parting with him. I went away that day, but now hear that Mr. 
Chaffy came back regularly every day to be fed and became very tame. All 
through the summer and following winter he came, and in the spring he brought 
his little wife with him, and they would perch on the trees close round the 
windows calling “ Chink, chink ! ” till they were fed. By this time Mr. Chink 
became so tame that he would perch close to my cousins at afternoon tea in the 
garden, when he was always fed. But one day when a piece of cake was given to 
him he did not take it as usual, but seemed anxious to attract notice to something 
in a flower border near, flying backwards and forwards and chirping. At last my 
