Fifth Sparrow (the one on the ground).—How are you, old Sneezer? How are your folks? Don't you find yourself comfortable?
Pussy.—Siss-ss-siss-ss! Mee-ow? mee-ow!
Fifth Sparrow.—Oh! wouldn't you like to, though? Spit away, old fellow! It's music to us sparrows.
Sixth Sparrow.—You are the brute that killed my dear little Spotted-wing.
Seventh Sparrow.—He also murdered my precious little Twitterwit.
Eighth Sparrow.—He is a bad fellow; and it is not surprising he has come to grief.
Ninth Sparrow.—Pull away, old boy! Sha'n't we come and help you? I love you so, I would like a lock of your hair.
Tenth Sparrow (the one on the lowest bough).—Children, hush! It is not good sparrow morality to jeer at an enemy in affliction,—even a cat.
Fifth Sparrow.—O grandfather, you shut up your bill! Just you go within reach of his claws, and see what cat-gratitude is.