[Illustration] SOMETHING happened when the summer was almost gone. One
day grandma shut the window and let me out in the room a few minutes,
so that my cage might have an extra cleaning. When Angeline brought it
back, she put me in it in a great hurry and hung it out in the usual
place. Hi! What did I see when she had left me? The door of my cage was
open! I looked at grandma; she was bending over her sewing and did not
see me.
"I'll just go out for a few minutes," I said to myself, "to get the
air, then I'll come back. I won't run away, not a bit."
I spread my wings and away I went, up, up, up. Was there ever anything
so nice as flying! I steered for a tall maple, and, there I sat and
rocked myself back and forth, and looked down on the whole world. Away
down ever so far I could see grandma at her window sewing. She had not
missed me yet. I could see Bob down on the lawn.
The dog was there too. How glad I was that I was up so high. Pretty
soon grandma got up and got a cherry, and came back to put it in my
cage. Poor grandma! How astonished and frightened she looked. She put
out her head and looked all about. Then she called, "Bob, see if you
can find Birdie. He is gone!"
Bob ran up and down, and shouted, and didn't seem to look anywhere but
right up in the sky. Then everybody in the house came out, and looked
in the hedge, and under the lilac, and in the evergreen. It was fun to
watch them.
Then somebody said, "There he is in the top of that tall maple."
Yes, there I was looking at them. I was ahead for once, and they
couldn't do a thing but stand and look at me.
"Let's send Tab up to scare her down," said Bob. "Come Tabby, Tabby,"
he called, and that dreadful old cat came walking out of the kitchen.
I didn't wait to see what would be done next. I spread my wings for a
long high fly out of reach of all cats and dogs and boys.
If you never flew, I can't begin to tell you how nice flying is. When
I was sure I was far enough away, I rested myself in a grove. I fell
asleep there, and had a nice long nap. When I awoke, I couldn't think
for a minute where I was. I was very hungry. I found a berry or two,
but they were almost gone. I thought I ought to go back now. I would
have liked to try to find the little brown house, but I was afraid if
I stayed any longer, grandma would be troubled about me, so I started
home, as I thought. On and on I went, but I could not find a big gray
house. Where was it? And where was I? I began to feel very tired, and
had to stop every few minutes to rest.
[Illustration: I HEARD A GREAT LONG M-E-O-W.]
It was growing dark, and I began to be afraid I should never find
grandma's house again. I flew wildly about till I was too tired to
move. It was dark, and I was lost! It's all very well to be free while
the sun shines, but when the dark night comes down, it's better for
a poor little bird like me to be in his own little house. Oh dear! I
thought, if only I hadn't gone out. I never meant to get so far away.
Grandma did know best, after all, and it seems one can't do the least
little wrong thing without suffering for it. I knew it was naughty to
go out, and now I was being punished for it.
These were my thoughts as I sat sad, and hungry, and wretched. I did
not dare to sleep up in a high tree. I was so tired I was afraid I
would fall and break my neck, so I curled up in a little low bush and
was just falling asleep when I heard a great long m-e-o-w. A cat! It
made my heart stand still. As soon as I could get strength I flew up in
a big tree. The wind blew so hard I was afraid it would blow the tree
down. The cat went off after a while, and I was just dropping off to
sleep again when a loud shrill voice said, "Tu-whoo, tu-whoo," and just
a little ways from me I saw two big eyes that looked like fire-balls. I
thought it must be some great monster come to swallow me up. I did not
dare to make a bit of noise. I hid behind some big leaves and shut my
eyes tight so that he couldn't see me, and I sat and trembled.
How I thought then of my pretty cage hanging empty in grandma's room,
and wished, oh! so much, that I was only in it. There was very little
sleep for me that night.
I was glad when the sky began to get red in the east. Then soon after I
heard a stir and twitter from some other birds. This cheered me up; I
ventured to peep out. The big eyes were gone, and the first rays of the
sun were peeping into my tree. The great drops of dew lay all about me.
I was so glad, for I had been thirsty all night, and there is no sweet
good drink like dew. The next thing was to go out and hunt up some
breakfast. I didn't know which way to turn to find something. I went
toward the place where I heard the voices of other birds. I made sure
first that they were not those saucy blue-jays, or cross sparrows, then
I flew right down among them. I was glad to find that they belonged to
the same families with whom I was acquainted. I guess they were cousins.
[Illustration: I GUESS THEY WERE COUSINS.]
They all gathered around me as if I were a great sight. They were very
kind to me, and said they would show me where to get some breakfast,
but when I saw what it was—bugs and worms—I turned away. I had to
tell them that I couldn't eat such as that if I starved. Some of them
laughed at me then, and said I was putting on airs.
Then old mother Robin spoke up and said, "Children, don't be rude. This
little stranger has not been used to eating such food. Come with me, my
child, and I will show you where you can find some seeds."
So she took me to a large, lovely garden, and showed me how to get the
seeds out of some little balls that were growing there. They were very
sweet and good.
I stayed with these birds a long time, for after a few days I gave
up trying to find either of my homes. I saw in my journeys a good
many little brown houses and tall gray ones, but they were never the
right ones. So I settled myself down to an outdoor life, and was quite
content. I helped the other birds. I brought bits of things that I
found to them, and went out with them to hunt bugs for their little
ones; it was great fun to do that. I went with the robins just before
dark often to get worms. They would stamp on the ground, then the worms
that live way down under ground would come and poke their heads up to
see who was knocking at their door, and the robins would snatch them up
in their bills and be off.
[Illustration: EVERYTHING LOOKS FRESH AND CLEAN.]
We had grand concerts. The first one was always at four o'clock in the
morning. The world is very beautiful then. Everything looks fresh and
clean. It is a wonderful sight to see the sun get up. There is a great
glory in the sky just before he comes. The little pink-edged clouds lie
all around, and the dewdrops sparkle like thousands of diamonds. Only
birds enjoy it, though. People stay in their beds and sleep, just when
the world is the very prettiest. I have often wondered why all little
boys and girls did not go to bed when birds do, and get up when they
do, and not miss the best of everything. The four o'clock concert is
given by the birds on purpose to make folks wake up to enjoy things.
But they will not—only just a few; the others scold. They turn over and
say, "I wish those little scamps would stop that noise." I've heard
them many a time.
[Illustration: MY FRIENDS TOOK LONG JOURNEYS.]
My friends took long journeys, and I often went with them. But I could
not stand it to fly as fast or as long as they did, and often stopped
by the way and rested till they returned. One day I stopped in a grove
and had a nice sleep. Then I waited a long time for them, but they
didn't come. And they never came; I never saw them again! It grieved me
very much. I thought they might at least have said "good-by" to me. I
remembered that they had told me they always went South every fall and
stayed until spring. And now they were gone, and I was sad and lonely.
There were no birds left very soon, except swallows and sparrows, and
I never had been sociable with them. The nights grew very cold. I had
to get in the evergreen-tree and tuck my feet under me, or they would
have been frozen. The seeds were all gone out of the garden. I lived on
crumbs that people threw out in their dooryards. One day a few little
flakes of snow came down. That frightened me. What if great heaps of it
were to come and cover up all the crumbs!
Oh, how dreary the pretty world begun to look! The leaves all gone
from the trees, the branches bare, and the green hills turned to dingy
brown; the rain drip, dripping all day long. I sat on the fence for
long hours, and watched and looked at every little girl to see if it
were not Rita or Dody. I went to all the tall houses to try to find
grandma's window. I thought how she sat in the twilight by the fire,
humming her sad little songs, and wondering where I was. Oh, dear
grandma! If she would only come out to look for me, I would fly right
into her arms. Day after day I sat and mourned. I grew thin, and my
feathers fell out, and I felt sick. Where were all my friends?
[Illustration: HOW DREARY THE PRETTY WORLD BEGAN TO LOOK.]
One morning I sat on a bush not far from a house. A cold rain was
drizzling down, and I was cold and hungry. Just then a woman came
along, and before I knew what she was about she threw a handkerchief
over my head and caught me. I struggled hard to get away, for I did
not like the looks of the woman. I thought I would rather stay out and
starve than to live with her. She had a rough, red face, and her dress
was soiled and torn. Her shoes wouldn't stay on, and her hair straggled
over her face. She held me tight and took me into the house. A pack of
ragged children ran to meet her.
How shall I begin to tell you what I felt when I looked around that
house? It was bare and dreadful looking. There was no carpet or
curtains, and nothing but a broken stove and table, a chair or two,
and some ragged beds on the floor in one end of the room. The children
had dirty faces and tangled hair and ragged clothes. To think of my
Rose and Dody looking like that! Every one of them wanted to take me
the same minute, and they snatched me about from one to another, and
squeezed me up as if they thought I was made of paper.
Pretty soon the woman brought a small box, and said in a loud voice
that made me shudder, "Give him to me this minute!"
She lifted the cover, plumped me in and shut it quick. There I was, in
the dark. After a while she fixed it so that a little ray of light came
in, and I could see a cup of water and a piece of bread. But though
I was almost starved my heart was too heavy to eat. To think that I
should ever have come to this—a prisoner in such a place. How could I
ever have been unhappy in that sweet dear home that I first ran away
from. I tell you, it's thinking what might have been, and that it is
our own fault that it doesn't be, that is the hardest part to bear when
you get into trouble.
I tried to resign myself to the thought that I was to stay in that dark
place forever. But after a long time, they took me out and put me in
a little rough cage made of splintery sticks nailed together. And now
began the very hardest part of my life. The father came home, and he
was a great big shaggy man, with fierce eyes and a red nose. He scolded
and knocked the children about, and drank all the time from a big black
bottle, and smoked till I was almost choked, and said bad words, and
got worse and worse till he fell asleep. Day after day he went through
that.
Bob's tormentings were nothing to what I had to suffer now. Bill and
Sam and Betty and Sal quarreled over me, and pulled me about from
morning till night. It is a wonder I did not die. Still, my feathers
grew in again, and I began to feel stronger, but I did not sing. I went
over some sad little chirrupings that meant, O, dear Rose! O, grandma!
O, Dody! Won't some of you come to help me? What a dismal, wretched
home it was. Nothing but cuffs, and kicks, and scoldings through the
dreary weeks. I am only a little bird, but I would like to speak out
and tell all boys and girls that they ought to be very happy if they
have enough to eat and wear, a kind father and mother, and a pleasant
home.
One night I saw that big fierce man looking sharp and long at me. I
thought it meant something, and it did. For early the next morning,
before it was scarcely light, while all the rest were asleep, he
slipped softly up to me, took down my cage, hid it under his coat and
went out.
I shivered when I felt the frosty air, both with cold and fear. I
didn't know what this bad man would do to me. Perhaps he was going to
kill me! He walked on and on a long ways. We did not pass many houses
at first. At last he went through a long street, and another, till he
came to the edge of the village and stopped before a house where a man
was mending his gate. He asked him if he wanted to buy a bird.
"No," said the man, and went on with his hammering without looking at
me.
I peeped out at him and his pretty home. Oh I how I wished I could
speak and beg him to take me. Then the bad man said he wanted to sell
him very much; that he was a poor man and had no money to buy breakfast
for his family. Then the nice man laid down his hammer, and came close
and took a good look at me.
"Where did you get this bird?" he asked. And when he had been told, he
said, right away, "I'll take him!"
And he pulled out some money and handed it over, and took me and went
up the walk to the house as fast as he could.
"Could this be the little brown house?" I thought.
No, this was a white house, with green blinds. But there was the porch,
and the apple-tree and the broad stones just the same. And was that
leafless bush the lilac? And who was the chubby little girl in a long
nightgown that bounded into the room as soon as I was inside? My dear
Dody? It was, it was surely Dody.
She shouted and clapped her hands and cried, "Papa, is that Puff? O,
where did you get him?"
"Look and see if it is Puff," he said.
She bent over me just a minute, then she said, "Yes, it's my dear
Puffy. It's his hind toe; it is, it is! Don't you know, papa, the nail
was crooked and shorter than the others, and there's the topknot on his
head. Oh, I must have him in my hand just a minute, the dear darling!"
And she took me in her warm, soft hands, and laid me to her cheek and I
was happy, and Dody looked as if she were.
Then she took me into the little bedroom that I remembered so well, and
there lay Rita still fast asleep. Dody put my bill close to her cheek,
and I kissed her.
Then she sat up quick, and said, "Why! Why! Where am I?"
And Dody laughed till she cried. Then father and mother came in, too,
and they all talked and wondered together about me.
When breakfast was ready, they let me come and eat with them. I cannot
tell you if I try, what a happy, happy time it was when I sat and sung
again at morning prayers, in the pretty little sitting-room with the
sun shining straight into my cage.
I am at last perfectly happy and contented. I have tried everything I
thought I wanted, and it wasn't what I thought it was, and now I am
back in the old place, and here was what I wanted all the time and I
didn't know it. Silly Puff!
It is out of fashion to put a moral after a story, but I am going to
have one to mine.
MORAL.—If you should be thrown into bad company, don't take their
advice.
It takes only one little minute to do something that may cause months
of sorrow.
Be content.