When the goldfinch had thus ended her interesting narrative, with which
I was at once affected and delighted, I no longer wondered at her
timidity. Indeed, the relation of her numerous misfortunes inspired
me with a degree of respect towards her, which I had not before felt:
our intimacy strengthened daily, and at last ripened into sincere
friendship. I had, too, frequent opportunities of observing some new
trait in my young friends, which excited my esteem and admiration; so
that I considered myself extremely fortunate, in having an agreeable
companion and worthy protectors.
My happiness, however, met with a transient interruption, from a severe
fit of illness, which attacked me about this time. I shall never
forget the kindness of my dear mistress on this occasion. She nursed
me with the greatest tenderness, and administered such things as were
likely to conduce to my restoration, with so much judgment, that I
happily recovered.
As my illness had given my mistress great uneasiness, you may suppose
that my recovery afforded her proportionate pleasure; and in order
to confirm my re-establishment, she ventured to take me again to her
garden, when she went to work there. I kept so close to her, and showed
so little inclination to fly away, that she left me alone on one of the
borders, while she went to the green-house. On her return she found me
near the place where she had left me, and offered me something to eat,
which I refused, for my attention was otherwise engaged. A sudden gloom
seemed to pervade all nature! The sun was concealed by thick clouds,
the birds were entirely silent, and a slight rustling among the trees
indicated an approaching storm. I looked up anxiously at my mistress,
but she seemed quite insensible to the terror that had seized me, and
merely urged me to eat. Finding that she did not understand me, and
that no time was to be lost, I flew for shelter to a neighbouring tree.
My mistress called to me, and I answered; but the pattering of the
rain, which began to descend in torrents, prevented her hearing me,
and obliged her to enter the green-house. I was sadly frightened when
I found myself alone; but I hoped, when the storm was over, to rejoin
my best friend. I heard her calling me at intervals, but I durst not as
yet quit my retreat.
At length the rain ceased, and the sun shone more brightly than
before, at least, so it appeared to me after the storm. I hastened to
the green-house, but what was my astonishment on perceiving that my
mistress had left it. I now gave myself up as lost, for I knew that I
was unable either to provide for or defend myself. All the dangers the
goldfinch had encountered, rushed on my imagination, and all seemed to
threaten me, young and defenceless as I was.
Time, though it passed heavily with me, passed on. The sun, fast
sinking in the west, indicated the decline of day, and I contemplated,
with extreme terror, the approach of night. I frequently thought of my
father and mother, and our comfortable little nest. I had once some
idea of retiring to it for the night; but how could I be sure of safety
there? My parents were no longer in it to protect me: besides, though
I had never slept out alone, I had reason to think that the night air
must be very chilly, as our parents always took such care to keep us
warm; and I already felt cold and comfortless, for every leaf was wet,
and I so tired of hopping about, that I could no longer keep myself
warm by exercise.
Amidst this assemblage of misfortunes, I had just sense enough to keep
near the green-house. The surrounding shrubbery was very beautiful,
but to me, at present, its charms were all lost. The birds, too, that
inhabited it, sung very sweetly; but the voice of my mistress, or the
sound of her approaching footsteps, would have been much sweeter to me.
At length, when I had nearly lost all hope, I was aroused by the
shutting of the green-house door, and the following instant I heard my
beloved mistress calling me, as she was accustomed to do, by imitating
the chirping of a bird. I answered, in accents half joyful, hair
mournful, for I was nearly starved with cold and hunger, and overjoyed
at meeting with her again. She followed the sound of my voice, and I,
as soon as I saw her, flew into a little tuft of ivy, close to where
she stood, that she might see me; and there I remained quietly, till
she took me gently in her hand to convey me home. I was glad enough
to see the school-room again, and well contented, after a plentiful
feeding, to retire to rest on my accustomed music-book.
On the following morning, my companion, the goldfinch, informed me of
what had passed in my absence. My mistress returning without me excited
no surprise, as she frequently shut me up in her own room, that I might
be at liberty, without interrupting her business in the school-room;
but one of the children happening to enquire where I was, my flight was
proclaimed.
All the young people evinced great regret, but my mistress told them
she had no doubt that I should be much happier out of doors; adding,
“You know I never intended keeping him a prisoner, and have, therefore,
frequently taken him out, that he might learn to provide for himself.”
“I fear he cannot do that yet,” said Clara.
“Beware, my love,” returned her governess, “lest, under that fond
concern for the little favourite, there should lurk a degree of
self-love. I must acknowledge, that, for my own gratification, I should
have preferred keeping him; but I love the little creature well enough
to consider his happiness, and that I think must consist, in a great
measure, in freedom. The very make of birds indicates that they ought
to be as free as the element in which they range.”
These arguments seemed to satisfy the children. “But,” enquired Anna,
“how will you be able to ascertain that he is happy? Do you expect ever
to see him again?”
“I intend,” said my mistress, “to go out a little before sun-set; if
when I call him he comes to me, I will receive him again under my
protection; but if, on the contrary, he shuns me, I shall conclude that
he no longer stands in need of it.”
The dear girls were much pleased with this arrangement, and still more
so with the result, of which my young readers are already informed. The
forlorn state in which my mistress had found me, induced her to believe
that I was yet too young to be set at liberty; and I was by no means
sorry on that account, for my late ramble had given me no exalted idea
of the happiness I should enjoy out of doors. Besides, I was perfectly
happy in my present situation, for I had every comfort that could be
procured for me; and I have observed that birds are not, like human
beings, apt to grow tired, even of good things, after having enjoyed
them some time.
No one, however, grew tired of me: I was daily more admired and
caressed by my young friends in the school-room, by their dear mamma,
and by the visitors who sometimes came to hear my little friends play
on the piano-forte. And here I cannot omit one remark, which I think
extremely creditable to them, because I have since seen many young
persons very deficient in that respect. When requested to play, though
their execution was by no means superior, they complied so readily,
and acquitted themselves with such modest good-humour, as could not
fail to enhance the merit of their performance, and create in the
minds of their auditors, that admiration which is never excited by
talents alone. I also got my share of praise on these occasions, for
I contrived sometimes to settle on the music-book, and at others on
Lady Seymour’s arm or shoulder, where I frequently fell asleep, though
not till I had heard many expressions of surprise at my familiarity.
I cannot say that I felt much vanity arise in my mind, from the
admiration lavished on me; for I did not think it at all surprising,
that extreme kindness on the part of my friends, should excite a
similar degree of confidence in me. I am, indeed, convinced, that were
there more such persons as the goldfinch’s Sophia and my protectors,
few little birds would be kept, as I have seen many, in small cages,
hung up in a corner, and scarcely noticed except when fed. But as it is
time to return to my history, after this long digression, it shall be
resumed in the succeeding chapter.