A Saucy Sparrow.
One day a boy picked up a young sparrow, which he brought home. His father put it in a big cage, and in course of time it became thoroughly domesticated. It used to fly about the garden and perch upon the heads and hands of the family. After a while it would venture upon an oak and carry on a very voluble conversation with its fellows who also patronised the tree. It soon grew as impudent and pugnacious and ravenous as most sparrows. It was always hungry and talkative. Though it had the freedom of the neighbourhood, it came down daily before sunset and roosted on a perch in its cage, the door of which was left open for its convenience. It was let out the first thing in the morning, but returned about six times a day for food, usually taking care to attend all the family meals, and often breakfasting with the master of the house, with whom it struck up a firm friendship. Sometimes it brought home a friend or two, but as they lacked its faith they invariably remained outside while it feasted indoors. It generally watched the boy's father as he left home every morning, chirping "good-bye" from a gutter-pipe. Its appetite continued healthy and its taste accommodating. Latterly it started a home of its own, but did not give up its old friends, looking in upon the household almost as often as ever.