A little girl by the name of Agnes, who lives in Maine, and who much
enjoys "The Nursery," has a beautiful, bright canary, which her papa
brought her one day in a paper-box. Agnes named him Pet.
The little fellow has become so tame, that he is allowed to stay out of
his cage as long as he wishes, always going to it of his own accord when
bedtime comes. One day I found no pins on my pin-cushion; and, seeing
them scattered around on the bureau, I wondered who could have done the
mischief. I soon found, by watching, that it was Pet's work.
Every day he took his stand on the pin-cushion, in front of the glass,
to pull out all the pins. I saw him once work a long time trying to
stick one back by tipping his head, first one side and then the other,
holding the pin tightly in his bill; but he soon gave it up.
Little Fannie, Agnes's two-year-old sister, often shares her lunch with
him; he sitting on the edge of the saucer, and helping himself while she
is eating. As I write, he is sitting on the tassel of the shade, looking
out of the window. Some day I'll tell you more of Pet's pranks.