So great a favorite with me is this charming bird that for his sake I fall into a state of such sadness when I see his fellows in shop windows that I can scarcely describe my feelings, lest I be taxed with exaggeration. The suffering I experience is perhaps akin to that of the devoted friend or relative of a bright and beloved child who sees another child resembling him in a wretched and unhappy home.

For the sake of the first dear child you shudder as you witness the sad case of the second. So with the Brazil cardinals. I most earnestly hope that the time will soon come when the iniquitous traffic in foreign birds will be stopped. We are protecting our native birds. Why not extend our protection to the helpless, lovely, and interesting foreigners? They too suffer, and beat their young lives away against cruel prison-bars.

Here in this large and kind-hearted city of Boston I saw the other day European goldfinches and linnets going up and down their cages, trying the wires with their little beaks, pleading vainly for freedom. My heart ached as I looked at them.

I often say to bird-dealers, “How thankful I am that you can no longer sell native birds.” These men do not care. There are plenty of other birds on the market. Now, if we can only free the unfortunate foreigners, bird-dealers who really love birds will find occupation in bird reservations and large aviaries, for I have come to the conclusion that undomesticated birds should be confined only for some wise purpose, or for scientific research.

I have already said that I ordered a mate for my red Virginian Ruby as well as for Red-top. When she arrived I found that instead of being a rosy-red bird like the male, she was of a dull brownish-vermilion. However, she was a handsome bird, and in fine condition. She darted from her traveling-cage, and the brilliant Ruby fell into the most ludicrous state of amusement, ecstasy, and bewilderment. He acted like a simpleton, flying to and fro after her, twisting his body from side to side, spreading his tail and wings, elevating and lowering his fine crest, singing at the top of his voice, then winding up with something earnestly delivered that sounded like, “What a dear! what a dear!”

All this was going on at the same time that the naughty Red-top was beating poor Touzle. I watched both pairs of birds, and Ruby’s bodily contortions were so fantastic that I was overcome with laughter.

He paid no attention to me. He was altogether taken up with the vivacious and handsome Virginia, who would not allow him to come near her. She flew from one end of the aviary to the other, switching her tail from side to side, avoiding him systematically, and making him sleep away off from her when night came.

This shyness did not last. Soon the two were very great friends, and flew about together all day long. Ruby’s delight in the companionship of one of his own kind took the form of feeding her. He kept the choicest morsels he found and put in her beak, almost exercising self-denial, for at the time of her arrival I did not have a sufficient supply of his favorite insect food in the aviary. If there was only one worm, Virginia got it.

I don’t know whether she appreciated his devotion or not. She was a restless creature, very unlike Touzle, who was quiet and reposeful. Virginia never kept still for any length of time, unless it was the nesting season. Then she sat quietly on her nest, day after day, and week after week.

I had some curious experiences with her, and every season it was the same thing. She made a nest, laid eggs, sat patiently on them till they hatched out, then began to feed the young ones until the day that I found them either on the ground, or laid out in a row on a window-ledge.