“Oh, Uncle Garnaud, do let him go!”
“Why, beauty, just as you say.”
The old man put off his apron and took the cage down.
“Here, little girl, you hold the cage, and we’ll go where he can fly free.”
Blanche carried the cage and he took her hand. They walked down to the bridge, and set the cage on the rail.
“Now, dearie, open the door,” said the old man.
The little child felt for the slide and pushed it back. In a moment the bird rushed out and flew madly off.
“He’s gone,” she said, “Jack’s gone. Where did he go, Uncle?”
“He flew right through that maple-tree, and now he’s over the fields, and now he’s out of sight.”
“And didn’t he even once look back?”