The Hon. Edward Everett made a speech on that occasion, in which he remarked that "it pleased his heart to see these venerable men beside him, and he was very much pleased to assist Mr. Jonathan Harrington to put on his top-coat a few minutes ago. In doing so, he was ready to say, with David, 'Very pleasant art thou to me, my brother Jonathan!'"
Late in March, 1854, when he was almost ninety-six years of age, Jonathan Harrington died, and was buried with public honors. In the funeral procession was a large body of military as an escort, and the hearse was followed by the committee of arrangements, the Governor of Massachusetts, the Lieutenant-Governor and Council, and a vast multitude of citizens gathered from the neighboring towns. After impressive religious services in the church at Lexington, his remains were deposited in the family tomb.
Sacred be the memory of the Fifer of Lexington!
[CANARIES AND OTHER CAGE-BIRDS.]
I can not remember the time when we had not a canary or a pet bird of some kind. My brother Ned, when he was a boy at home, had a great fancy for canaries and bullfinches, and he had one of the latter which he taught to whistle very beautifully the tune of "Ye banks and braes o' Bonnie Doon." The bullfinch's cage hung side by side with that of a canary, and after a time the canary caught the trick of whistling too, and although he could not do it so well as the bullfinch, yet he managed one or two lines very well. When the bullfinch died, the canary gradually forgot the art he had learned, and by-and-by he gave up whistling altogether, though he never forgot how to sing. There are many varieties of canaries, some of them very odd-looking birds indeed. There are bright yellow ones and orange-colored ones, and one family, called Lizards, are of a beautiful green color. Then there are canaries with tufts of feathers on their heads just like little caps; these are called Norwich canaries.
The Belgian canary is a tall bird, with very high shoulders, and its head, instead of standing erect, bends down and hangs forward a long way below its shoulders. It is one of the most interesting things I know to rear a brood of young birds. Mrs. Canary takes charge of the eggs, and sits upon them patiently day by day, whilst Mr. Canary looks after the food for madame, and then sits down by her side, and sings his loudest, sweetest songs to cheer her in her trying, wearying task. By-and-by the time arrives for the young canaries to appear, and then there is a pretty fluster in the nest, I assure you. The cock looks as important as an alderman, and the hen can hardly be persuaded to leave the nest, even for her food. At last the young birds break through the shells, and the first thing they do is to open their big mouths for something to eat. This the happy parents readily and promptly supply, and if all goes well the youngsters soon grow out of their babyhood, and learn to feed themselves.
But things do not always go well, especially if you happen to have a cat or a dog in the house, or, as happened to me on one occasion, both. I had a splendid Norwich canary, with a top-knot, which was the admired of all admirers. He used to sing all day long in my room; but one day, the servant having moved the cage into another room, Carlo and Tom got at it, and frightened my poor pet to death.
Carlo was ashamed of himself as soon as he had knocked over the cage, but Tom was a fierce old cat, and made such efforts to get at the canary that the poor little thing died from sheer fright. I do not like to see birds confined to very small cages, especially where more than one is kept. It is best to give them plenty of air, and room to fly about in.
The best of all is an aviary where they can move as freely as if they were out-of-doors. I know a gentleman who has by kindness got quite a collection of birds to come into his garden and make their homes there without living in confinement at all.