[The Stolen Birds' Nest.]
"In these summer bushes
Listen to the thrushes—
Hear the robin and the wren call from tree to tree:
Hear how all day long
The woods o'erflow with song,
And how every leafy branch blooms with melody!
Do you not feel sorry,
Seeing me in sadness,
When the other little birds are so full of gladness?"
Clarence Cook.
In one of the sunniest and sweetest countries in the world, the south of France, lived my heroes, two little peasant boys, named Auguste and Leon Duval. Their fathers were brothers, and vine growers on the estate of the Count de Vallence. The little cousins were excellent friends, and almost always seen together, following their fathers through the beautiful vineyards, gathering up the branches which they had pruned away, or helping to pick grapes at vintage-time, or straying through the grand old woods of the chateau, searching after nuts and wild berries. They usually agreed very well, both in work and play, but they sometimes had their little quarrels like too many other children. Auguste was full two months the elder, and he was apt to presume upon that, and be proud and overbearing towards Leon. He was shrewd and somewhat selfish, and frequently took advantage of his cousin, who was almost too confiding and generous. They were beautiful boys; perhaps Auguste was the most admired of the two, for he had a rich brown complexion, with glowing cheeks and lips, glossy raven curls, and bold, black, handsome eyes. Leon was the fairer; he had brown hair, and deep, soft, brown eyes, which however, could flash in anger; lips like wild rose leaves, fresh and sweet, but which could curl in scorn at cruelty and meanness. Usually his face wore a very mild and amiable expression, and if Auguste was the most admired, Leon was the most loved.
In the woods of the chateau the cousins sometimes met the Countess Marie, the pretty young wife of the Count de Vallence, who loved to walk in the cool, green forest paths. She was attracted by the beauty, simplicity, and arch playful ways of the merry boys, and often whiled away an hour in talking with them and watching them in their sports. Once she took them with her to the chateau, and showed them the lofty rooms, the pictures, statues, fountains, and conservatories, enjoying much their wonder and pleasure. That which gave them most delight was the aviary, where there was a fine collection of talking and singing birds—magpies, parrots, macaws, canaries, goldfinches, English black-birds, and many other kinds. As they were looking at these, the countess said to the old servant who had charge of them,—"Pierre, why have we no robins?"
"I did not know that my lady would care for such common birds," answered the old man.
"Care for them! I think they are the sweetest songsters in the world. I once saw one at Paris that could sing several opera airs. Could you teach them to sing so, Pierre?"
"Yes, my lady, if I had them young," he replied.
"Well, then, we must have some," said the lady, decisively; "my bird-choir is not complete without them; so remember, Pierre!"
Just as the Countess was dismissing her little friends at the hall door, the Count de Vallence entered. He was a stern, haughty man, and now seemed astonished and shocked at seeing his countess making so much of a couple of peasant boys. He drew down his black eyebrows, and looked so grim, that they were glad to escape, and the good Countess never took them there again.