A greenfinch new up to the table, flew down to her knee, flew up to her shoulder, flew down to her hand, and, perching on her thumb, began to feed.
And she went on with her soft, soft intoning.
"This is Perlino,
So green, oh, so green, oh.
He is the bravest heart,
The sweetest singer, of them all.
I 'm obliged to impart my information
In the form of a chant;
For if I were to speak it out, prose-wise,
They would be frightened, they would fly away.
But I hope you admire
My fine contempt for rhyme and rhythm.
Is this not the ninth wonder of the world?
Would you or could you have believed,
If you had n't seen it?
That these wild birds,
Not the sparrows only,
But the shy, shy finches,
Could become so tame, so fearless?
Oh, it took time—and patience.
One had to come every day,
At the same hour,
And sit very still,
And softly, softly,
Monotonously, monotonously,
Croon, croon, croon,
As I am crooning now.
At first one cast one's seed
At a distance—
Then nearer, nearer,
Till at last—
Well, you see the result."
Her eyes laughed, but she was very careful not to move. Anthony, blotted against the leafy wall behind him, sat as still as a statue. Her eyes laughed. "Oh, such eyes!" thought he. Her red lips, smiling, took delicious curves. And the hand on which Perlino perched, with its slender fingers, its soft modelling, its warm whiteness, was like a thing carved of rose-marble and made alive.
"And Perlino," she resumed her chant—
"Perlino Piumino
Is the bravest of them all.
And now that he has made an end
Of his handful of seed,
I hope he will be so good
As to favour us with a little music.
Sometimes he will,
And sometimes he just obstinately won't.
Tu-ite, tu-ite, tu-ite,
Andiamo, Perlino, tu-ite!
Canta, di grazia, canta."
And after some further persuasion,—you will suspect me of romancing, but upon my word,—Perlino Piumino consented. Clinging to Susanna's thumb, he threw back his head, opened his bill, and poured forth his crystal song—a thin, bright, crystal rill, swift-flowing, winding in delicate volutions. And mercy, how his green little bosom throbbed.
"Is n't it incredible?" Susanna whispered. "It is wonderful to feel him. His whole body is beating like a heart."
And when his song was finished, she bent towards him, and—never, never so softly—touched the top of his green head with her lips.
"And, now—fly away, birdlings—back to your affairs," she said.
"Good-bye until to-morrow."