"Truly, Aunty, I am a real bird," the Canary would assert with tears in her eyes, "even if I do feel cold sometimes."
"Look out, now! It always seems to me that you are only pretending to be a bird," said the Crow.
"Honestly, Aunty, I'm not pretending."
Sometimes the Canary would try to think about her future. Perhaps it would have been better to have stayed in the cage, after all. There it was warm and one always had plenty to eat.
Several times she flew up to the window, where her old cage hung. Two new canaries looked out at her and envied her.
"Oh, how cold it is!" pitifully piped the freezing Canary. "How I would like to be in there with you."
One morning the Canary looked out of the Crow's nest. She was astonished at the dreary sight. Over night, the ground had been covered with the first snow. Everything was white, but, saddest of all, the snow covered all the grains on which the Canary fed. There remained only the mountain ash berry, but she couldn't possibly eat that! It was too sour! As for the Crow, she ate that, saying, "Very fine!"
After starving two whole days, the Canary was in despair.
"What is going to happen to me? I will die of hunger," thought the Canary.
The next day the Canary sat wondering when suddenly she saw coming into the garden the very same boys who had thrown stones at the Crow. They spread a net on the ground and covered it with very tasty bird seed then went away.