“My fears had now nearly overcome me, and I was on the point of sinking to the ground, an easy prey to this destroyer, when one effort saved me. I perceived an open window in the habitation nearest to us, and collecting the little strength I had left, made towards it, entered, and sunk breathless on the bosom of a young lady who was sitting near it. She immediately rose, and taking me gently in her hand, shut the window. ‘Poor little bird,’ said she, ‘something must have alarmed you; but here you are safe and sure of protection. I will take care of you.’
“She then gave me some water, which I found very refreshing, and presently after, one of her sisters coming into the room, I learnt her intentions respecting myself. ‘See, Lucy,’ said she, ‘what a treasure I have.’ ‘A goldfinch! Where did you get it?’ ‘In a manner so extraordinary, that I shall not easily be prevailed on to part with it. Though I am much averse to slavery, and should not like to keep it entirely a prisoner, yet, as it came to me for protection, I should be unwilling to expose it again to the danger it so lately escaped.’
“She then related the manner of my coming to her, and observed, that she supposed some bird of prey had pursued me. ‘Well,’ said Lucy, ‘and what do you intend to do with it?’ ‘I shall keep it in a cage till it becomes familiar; I shall accustom it to eat out of my hand, and when I have tamed it a little, I shall frequently let it out.’ ‘I like your plan, my dear Sophy, and trust that it will be the means of assisting our endeavours to restore your health. How we shall all love the little bird, if it adds to your happiness!’ ‘Oh! do not think of my health,’ returned Sophy, ‘you know I mean to get quite well soon.’ ‘Do so, my beloved sister,’ said Lucy, with a faint smile; but her countenance expressed no hope that her sister’s prediction would be verified. I even observed a tear trembling in her eye: to conceal it she hastily left the room, saying she would look for a cage.
“You, perhaps, think that the prospect of a cage terrified me, but I was now less satisfied with my liberty than at first, since I found that there were dangers and misfortunes attending it, of which I had not dreamt when in captivity: besides, I was shunned by my own species, and led a solitary life, which was extremely irksome to me; so that, upon the whole, I was not dissatisfied at becoming the companion of the interesting Sophia, of whom I shall now give you some account.
“Her father was an honest, intelligent tradesman, who had, by his reputation and diligence, obtained a very good business, by which he maintained his family, consisting of his wife, three daughters, and a son. The latter was very useful to his father, for, being a good accomptant, he kept the books, and otherwise assisted him in business, though scarcely fourteen. Sophia, my mistress, was fifteen, but in such a delicate state of health, that she had few opportunities of being useful to her family, though her disposition was so amiable, that, had she possessed the power, I am sure she would not have wanted the inclination. Lucy and Mary were twins, nearly two years older than Sophia, and so active and industrious, that they not only superintended the domestic concerns of the family, and did all the needle-work, but also found time for recreations, the chief of which was making clothes for their poor distressed neighbours. When Sophia was confined to her room, one of them always contrived to be with her; and Arthur generally joined them in the evening, to amuse his sister by playing on the flute; for she was very fond of music, and he had applied himself to it so earnestly, in order to afford her a new gratification, that he had made some progress in that delightful science. Sometimes the elder girls accompanied him with their voices, which were sweet and unaffected. My mistress took great pleasure in these little concerts; indeed, she frequently appeared as if beguiled of all her pain by them, and tears of delight would fill her eyes. I was no less enraptured on these occasions, and could not forbear joining my little notes in chorus, for which I was greatly admired.
“My sensible, kind-hearted protectress, as you may imagine, soon gained my affection. How, indeed, could it have been possible to know any one of this amiable family, without sentiments of esteem; but Sophia was constantly near me, and I was continually discovering something new to admire in her. The patience she displayed in suffering; the restraints she imposed on herself, in the presence of her dear relatives, lest any expression of pain should escape her, and add to the grief they already felt on her account; and, above all, the kind attention she bestowed on me, made me not only admire, but love her so much, that, had she opened the window and offered me liberty, I should have preferred staying with her. Indeed, my ideas of liberty were now very different to those I had formerly entertained: my enlargement had been attended with so many misfortunes, that I considered my present confinement much more tolerable.
“I was not always kept in a cage, but often allowed the full range of Sophia’s apartment. Besides, she taught me several diverting tricks; such as eating out of her hand, flying up to her mouth for a hemp-seed, and drawing up a little pasteboard box, which was suspended by a string to my cage, and into which she put something nice, as an inducement to my exertions. I found that these performances pleased and amused her very much, and I was, consequently, very docile and obedient.
“The amiable traits I discovered in each member of this family, led me to imagine that all human beings were equally well disposed, and I even pitied the timidity of our race, which made them mistrustful of such benevolent creatures; but I was soon undeceived, by a circumstance which is even now painful to my remembrance.
“Poor dear Sophia had with difficulty passed through the winter, but spring, which revives all nature, seemed to promise the restoration of her health. She was frequently able to quit her room, and on these occasions she sat in a neat little parlour which overlooked the garden. I, her constant companion, and more her favourite than ever, was always brought down in my cage, and placed near the window. The garden was separated on one side by a very close hedge, from that of a neighbouring gentleman, whose children often walked there. In this hedge a sparrow had constructed her little nest, and had been sitting some time, when it was discovered by Arthur, who pointed it out to his sisters. Sophia, from the window, observed the sparrow and her mate alternately relieving each other from the confinement of the nest, and frequently fed them. By this means they became very tame, and generally sought their food at the accustomed time and place, chirping, as if to thank their benefactress, whose gentle heart rejoiced at the idea of affording pleasure or assistance to the minutest living creature.
“At length Arthur informed her that the young ones were hatched, and she pleased herself with the hope, that they would soon come to feed with their parents at the window. But three days only had elapsed, when William Stanton, son of the gentleman before mentioned, came, attended by a servant, to walk in his father’s garden, and as they approached the hedge, we heard them conversing very familiarly together. ‘Master W.,’ said the footman, ‘had you any bird-nesting at school?’ ‘Very little,’ said the young gentleman, ‘for one of the boys met with an accident, which made our master prohibit it, and we were too closely watched to disobey. But you know, John, that will not prevent my having some sport in that way now I am at home. You shall help me.’