108 
BRAMBLES AND BAY LEAVES. 
matters for amusement rather than fear,—and after a 
careful survey of a straw-stuffed man, with boots turned 
behind, and face without expression, he deems it the 
relic of some gunpowder-plot freak, and so far from 
being frightened, chooses it immediately as a suitable 
spot for his nest. Old hats stuffed with red rags, dead 
dogs and cats crucified on broom sticks, and rows of 
gay ribbons threaded on sticks, he holds in equal dis¬ 
regard, and if puzzled by them for a day or two, pays no 
more attention to them after he has seen their empti¬ 
ness ; and as to boys with horns and clappers, he takes 
no alarm from their hideous noises, but keeps at a safe 
distance in case of stones. Thus, in every sense, the 
sparrow is very individual; his ways and means are 
interesting, though neither song nor plumage claim any 
particular regard. He has character, and that redeems 
him from indifference. Song and plumage are both 
poor things compared with character: it is character we 
seek in men; and strong individualities make even 
rogues tolerable; for, after all, Will, which is the foun¬ 
dation of individuality, compels reverence, no less in 
feathered than in coated bipeds. 
