THK TRUK STORY OF PKGGOTTY. 187 
kisten, and you shall hear how she ran away from home 
one raw January day. She slipped through the back door, 
when it was opened for an instant, and, as quick as a flash, 
was out of sight around the north side of the house. I 
hurried after her, but not a glimpse of her could be had? 
I went all around the house, calling her, and into the woods 
above in search of her, but no Peggotty was to be found, 
and I feared the poor bird would soon perish with cold. 
But two and a half hours later, as I sat by a south window, 
I heard a sharp ‘ ‘ Peepk, peepk , pbkpk ! Please let me in ! ” 
And there sat the runaway on the window sill, asking as 
plainly as a bird could ask, to be let in. 
I assure you I was not long in opening the window. The 
noise startled her, and she flew up to the top of the blind, 
but at my call she came down upon the top of my head, 
and I lost no time in welcoming her back to warmth and 
safety. She seemed very glad to see me—I was to see her. 
I gave her a red-pepper pill, and she at once went to eat¬ 
ing seeds, took a little rest, and in a half hour’s time was 
hopping from perch to perch, and playing with a spool, as 
unconcernedly as if a trip out into the wide, wide world 
was an everyday occurrence, and at no time since has she 
seemed the worse for her adventure. 
Won’t it be delightful when all the birds of the woods 
and fields are as tame and friendly as Peggotty Zamelodia 
kudoviciana ? When they will come to greet the boys and 
girls out for a stroll; when cats will cease catching and 
eating birds ; when small boys will make bonfires of their 
air rifles; when we shall love our neighbor as ourself. 
When that time comes, we shall not fear to throw doors 
and windows open wide, and let Peggy go in and out at 
her own sweet will. 
I must confess that the account of the first home of this 
rose-breasted grosbeak is partly imaginary. Otherwise, 
my tale is strictly true. 
Waterbury, Conn, 
