A few days after, Herbert accompanied his father to a large town several miles distant from their own home. While his father was engaged in the transaction of business, he walked slowly through the principal streets, amusing himself with what was passing around him, and occasionally stopping to look at something attractive in the shop windows. At length he became much interested in watching the quick motions of several birds of different kinds, whose cages were suspended at the door of a bird fancier’s establishment.
As he stood looking at their lively movements and listening to their sweet songs, he was surprised to observe William Camden standing in the shop with a large cage in his hand containing a great many young birds of various kinds, for which he appeared to be just concluding a bargain with the bird fancier.
“This, then, is what he does with his young birds,” thought Herbert; “but why was he so secret about it?”
At this instant William turned around and recognized his companion. He colored deeply, and at first seemed inclined not to speak; but better feelings gained the ascendancy, and, approaching Herbert, he said pleasantly,—
“You have discovered what I do with my young birds. It does seem cruel to catch them, but I try to do it as kindly as possible. I seldom take more than one from a nest, and always watch the time when the old birds are absent, that I may not alarm them. The money which I earn in this way not only defrays the expenses of my education, but enables me to assist my poor mother.”
“But why were you so secret about it?” asked Herbert. “Why did you not tell us plainly for what purpose you caught the birds?”
“My first motive for secrecy,” replied William, “Was to prevent thoughtless and idle boys from following my example, fearing that they would not so strictly endeavor to avoid cruelty. But when you questioned me on the subject, I should have answered frankly had I not felt irritated by your manner, and hurt that you could suppose me capable of engaging in such an occupation for sport.”
“I did wrong,” replied Herbert; “as usual, my judgment was too hasty. I ask your forgiveness, William, for my suspicions; but I fear I have been the means of doing you a great injury. I must seek my father without delay;” and thus saying he abruptly departed, leaving William much surprised at his words.
Mr. Archer listened with interest to Herbert’s story, and yielded to his entreaties to go immediately to Mr. Morgan, in the hope that it was not yet too late to repair the wrong which he had done his companion.
When they reached the house, Herbert’s impatience was so great that he could hardly wait until the customary salutations were exchanged, before he said, with much earnestness,—