On learning that he was twenty dollars, I said that I could not afford to get him.
A showy redbird that looked too big for his cage next impressed me. He had a black forehead and chin, a jaunty crest, and a vigorous air, and his every movement proclaimed the cruelty of imprisoning so active a bird.
Red Cardinal Brazilian Cardinal
“What is his name?” I asked.
“Virginia Nightingale.”
James Lane Allen’s charming story about this red cardinal came to my mind, and I said I would take him. I think I paid four dollars and a half for him.
An equally attractive bird was one that sat more quietly in his cage—a beautiful gray bird with a red crest and a red bib. I found that he was a cardinal from Brazil, and I said I would take him to be a companion for the other. Alas! I am no seer, and did not anticipate that my two princely birds with their red heads would become mortal enemies.
In addition to the Brazil, whose price was about the same as that of the all-red cardinal, I bought a pair of Java sparrows. They were so neat and handsome with their little gray bodies and their conical beaks, and white ear-tufts, making them look like tiny old men with big pink noses, that I could not resist them.