18 
SPARROWS* 
himself a great musician, and who, when a young man, 
possessed a Piping-Bullfinch, which he had taught 
to sing “ God save the Kin g.” On his once going 
abroad, he gave his favourite in charge to a sister, 
with a strict injunction to take the greatest care of 
it. On his return, one of his first visits was to 
her, when she told him that the poor little bird had 
been long in declining health, and was at that 
moment very ill. Sir William, full of sorrow, went 
into the room where the cage was ; and, opening the 
door, put in his hand, and spoke to the bird. The 
bird remembered his voice, opened its eyes, shook 
its feathers, staggered on to his finger, piped u God 
save the King,*' and fell dead ! 
It is often remarked, What impudent birds are 
London Sparrows ! and not without reason. Born 
and bred in the bustle of the town, they must 
either live and jostle with the crowd, or look down 
from the house-tops and die of hunger. Naturally 
enough, they prefer the former, and every one of our 
London readers will, we are sure, testify to the 
cool intrepidity with which this familiar bird will 
pounce upon a bit of bread, or some other tempting 
morsel, which happens to catch its eye upon the 
pavement, and with wliat triumph and exultation it 
bears it off to its mate, seated on some window-sill 
or coping-stone above, or followed, perhaps, by three 
or four disappointed companions, who were a mo- 
ment too late in seizing the spoil. Then, for his 
nest; — while other birds must select their own accus- 
tomed spots, the similar tree or bush, the same 
materials, &c., the Sparrow, like a bird who knows 
the world, is everywhere at home, and ready to 
