"You call this singing?" he exclaimed. "Ha! Ha! Ha! How foolish were your masters to feed you for such singing. If they fed anyone, why should it not have been a real bird like me? Just a while ago I cawed and that rascal Vaska almost fell off the fence. That's what I call singing."
"I know Vaska, a most awful beast! Many a time he softly crept to my cage, his green eyes burning, his claws out."
"To some, he seems fierce, but not to others. That he is sly, is true, but there is nothing fierce about him. However, we can talk about this later, for somehow I cannot yet believe that you are a real bird."
"But, Aunty, I am a bird. I am a real bird. All canaries are birds, you know."
"Very well. We shall see. How do you expect to make a living?"
"I don't need very much, really. A few seeds, a bit of sugar and a bit of toast. That is all."
"What a lady you are! A bit of sugar indeed! You can do without sugar. As for seeds, those might be found. On the whole, I like you. Do you want to live with me? I have a splendid nest in the birch tree."
"Thank you. But how about the sparrows?"
"If you live with me, no one will dare to touch you. Not only the sparrows, but even sly Vaska knows my character well. I don't like fooling."
The Canary at once took courage and flew off with the Crow. Yes, the nest was fine. If there were only some toast and a wee bit of sugar!