More Tales of the Birds

by W. Warde Fowler

For some time she kept Elimelech in his cage, but gradually she accustomed him to shift for himself. He would sit on her shoulder as she went about her household work, and when she went into the hovel he would perch on Fan’s back. Fan did not seem to mind, and very soon Elimelech took to roosting there, and a strangely devoted friendship was established between them.

While Elimelech was thus growing up as a member of the household, Selina was beginning to wonder how she was to keep that household together. How was she to keep herself and pay her rent without the little incomings that had found their way into her husband’s pocket when he took a fancy now and then to ask his customers to pay their debts? She parted with her fowls and ducks, but most of these were ancient skinny creatures, whose lives had been prolonged beyond the usual limit by careless kindness, and they brought her but little profit. It was some time before it dawned on her that she must part with Fan too, but when at last it did, she felt a terrible pang. It would be like parting with a sister. And who indeed would buy poor old Fan, and if a purchaser were found, what would he give for such an ancient little animal?

She banished the notion from her mind: she and Fan must stick together for what years of lonely life still remained to them.

One Tuesday morning, she was grazing the pony on the strip of turf that ran through the middle of the village allotments; Elimelech was perched on Fan’s back as usual, for he now insisted upon occupying his favourite station during all these little excursions, amusing himself by occasional flights into the air, or sometimes walking at the pony’s heels and picking up the insects that were disturbed as she grazed. There in the dewy summer morning the three had a consultation together, and it was decided that the next day, Wednesday, being market day at Northstow, Selina and Fan should journey thither, show themselves once more, and try and start the carrying business afresh before it was too late. There was no time to be lost; already one villager more enterprising than his fellows had purchased a donkey, and threatened to step into the place left vacant by Selina’s husband. The day was spent in going round to the old customers, and by nightfall Selina had a fair number of commissions. A heavy cloud had suddenly lifted from the little old woman’s heart; she saw her way before her and went to bed happy.

Next morning early she went into her hovel, where Elimelech had passed the night on his usual perch. She fed the pony, and then, gently removing the bird, began to put on the harness. Elimelech flew up to a rafter, and began to utter dolorous crooning whistles; and no sooner was the harnessing finished, than down he flew again with a persistence that somewhat perplexed his mistress.

“No, my dear,” she said to him, “you just stay at home and keep house till we come back.” And laying hold of him tenderly, she began to carry him across the garden to the cottage, meaning to shut him up safe in his cage till evening. But Elimelech seemed to divine what was coming, and objected strongly; he struggled in her hand, and making his escape, flew up and perched on the cottage chimney. She shook her finger at him. “Don’t you get into mischief,” she said, “or you’ll make us both unhappy.” Elimelech looked very wise up there, bowing and whistling. “I’ll take care of myself,” he seemed to say, and she thought he might be trusted to do so. Anyhow, go she must, and without him.

She mounted into the seat of the little pony-cart, and turned out into the village street; but she had hardly done so, when a whirring of wings was heard, and down came Elimelech to his perch again. There was no time to stop now; and Selina was obliged to let him have his own way, though she was not without misgivings for what might happen at Northstow, if they ever reached it all three still together. In the village there was no fear; Fan and Elimelech were now as well known as Selina herself, but at Northstow what might happen if the children were coming out of school just as she got there?

She tried to time herself so as to escape such a catastrophe, but as usually happens in such cases, she did after all run right into the middle of the school as it broke up at twelve o’clock. Elimelech, who had been perfectly well behaved all the way, only taking a little flight now and then as a relief, now thought he saw an opportunity to display himself; and no sooner did the children begin to gather round than he fluttered his wings and saluted them with a cheery whistle. Instantly the pony and cart were surrounded with a crowd of imps shouting and dancing; Fan was hustled and began to kick, and one or two boys made a dash for the starling. But Elimelech was a match for them; he quietly flew up to a neighbouring roof and waited there till the hubbub had subsided. Before Selina had reached her inn, he was on the pony’s back again.

Once in the stable, both Fan and Elimelech were safe; but Selina had to do a good deal of extra carrying that day, for she could not venture to drive the cart about the town, and had to drag every parcel separately from shop or market to the inn. At last she got away, escaping by a back lane which joined the main road outside the town, and reached home without further adventures.

On the Saturday following she started again, and again Elimelech insisted on being of the party. She had no great fear for his safety this time, for unless it came to throwing stones, which was unlikely on a market-day with policemen about, she knew that he could save himself by flight. And so it happened; whenever anything occurred to disturb him, Elimelech would fly up to some lofty point of vantage, and as regularly rejoin his company at the inn. But as time went on, he had less and less need for these sallies; Northstow grew accustomed to the strange trio, and though a boy would sometimes howl, or a passer-by stop and stare, no one seriously troubled them.