“But where is this Robin?” asked the little boy: “may I see it?”
“Yonder on the music-book,” replied Anna; “Miss Sedley will show him to you.”
“That I will,” said my mistress, and taking me in her hand, she introduced me to my new friend, who admired me so much, that, if Robins were susceptible of vanity, I should have been one of the vainest.
Little Julia now returned, bringing in a large cage, in which I saw a pretty-looking bird, apparently much older than myself; but as it was getting rather dark, I was too sleepy to make any further observation, so putting my head under my wing, I settled myself to sleep in my mistress’s hand.
CHAP. III.
The next day I had an opportunity of observing my new friend, and the companion he had brought me, more leisurely, and I conceived no unfavourable opinion of either. As I was not at all timid, I jumped about on the outside of the goldfinch’s cage, which my mistress perceiving, she opened the door and allowed me to go in. I was by no means displeased at finding myself thus shut up, as I found such little pieces of food as I could manage, and this greatly amused me; for I had hitherto been unable to feed myself at all, except when out of doors. The goldfinch, too, seemed by no means averse to my company, though I observed that she did not like me to come too near her: much less would she allow any of the children to touch her, for she fluttered violently if they only approached her cage. I thought this timidity very silly, and one day ventured to tell her so; representing, at the same time, that I got no harm by my familiarity, and, therefore, why should she apprehend any.
“Ah, I perceive you are a novice,” said she; “you would cease to wonder at my fears, if you knew my history.”
As I had never known any other birds than my father and mother, and them only a short time, I felt my curiosity very strongly excited, and requested her to gratify it by relating her adventures, which she did, in nearly the following terms.
“I, with four others, first saw the light in the delightful month of June. We were hatched in an apple-tree, which stood in the midst of a good kitchen-garden. I need not describe to you the affectionate cares of our beloved parents: you have too recently experienced the tender solicitude of yours, to have lost the remembrance of it; and as it is a sentiment which pervades the whole of the feathered race, it is nearly the same in all the species. Let it suffice then, that their cares were more than repaid by our health and safety. We became very fine little birds, and were just fledged: our parents began to talk of teaching us to use our little wings, which as yet we had not so much as expanded, and one evening I heard my mother telling my father that it was high time we should decamp, as she had great reason to suspect that the nest had been closely observed by the gardener. My father, on hearing this suspicion, immediately concluded that it would be expedient to remove on the following day; and we, who were sufficiently awake to hear the conversation, promised ourselves much pleasure from the projected excursion of the morrow. But, alas! how often have I experienced that we deceive ourselves with the hopes of happiness we are destined never to enjoy! These, my first hopes, were the more sanguine, as I had never known disappointment, and, consequently, I suffered more acutely from their not being realized.