|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 20
Night after night he sang his own song in Grandmother's garden. But
there came a night when he did not sing; and though Grandmother and
Lindsay listened all next day, and looked in every tree for him, he
could not be found.
"I'm afraid somebody has caught him and shut him up in a cage" said
Grandmother; and when Lindsay heard this he was very miserable; for he
knew that somewhere in the garden, there was a nest and a mother bird
waiting.
He and Grandmother talked until bed-time about it, and early next
morning Lindsay asked Grandmother to let him go to look for the bird.
"Please do, Grandmother," he begged. "If somebody has him in a cage I
shall be sure to find him; and I will take my own silver quarter to buy
him back."
So after breakfast Grandmother kissed him and let him go, and he ran
down the path and out of the garden gate, and asked at every house on
the street:--
"Is there a mocking bird in a cage here?"
This made people laugh, but Lindsay did not care. By and by, he came to
a little house with green blinds; and the little lady who came to the
door did not laugh at all when she answered his question:--
"No; there are no mocking birds here; but there are two sweet yellow
canaries. Won't you come in to see them?"
"I will sometime, thank you, if Grandmother will let me," said Lindsay;
"but not to-day; for if that mocking bird is in a cage, I know he's in a
hurry to get out."
Then he hurried on to the next house, and the next; but no mocking birds
were to be found. After he had walked a long way, he began to be afraid
that he should have to go home, when, right before him, in the window of
a little house, he saw a wooden box with slats across the side; and in
the box was a very miserable mocking bird!
"Hurrah! hurrah!" cried Lindsay, as he ran up the steps and knocked at
the door. A great big boy came to the window and put his head out to see
what was wanted.
"Please, please," said Lindsay, dancing up and down on the doorstep,
"I've come to buy the mocking-bird; and I've a whole silver quarter to
give for it, because I think maybe he is the very one that sang in
Grandmother's garden."
"I don't want to sell it," answered the boy, with a frown on his face.
Lindsay had never thought of anything like this, and his face grew
grave; but he went bravely on:---
"Oh! but you will sell it, maybe. Won't you, please? Because I just know
it wants to get out. You wouldn't like to be in a cage yourself, you
know, if you had been living in a garden,--'specially my Grandmother's."
"This bird ain't for sale," repeated the boy, crossly, frowning still
more over the bird-cage.
"But God didn't make mocking-birds for cages," cried Lindsay, choking a
little. "So it really isn't yours."
"I'd like to know why it isn't," said the boy. "You'd better get off my
doorstep and go home to your Granny, for I'm not going to sell my
mocking-bird,--not one bit of it;" and he drew his head back from the
window and left Lindsay out on the doorstep.
Poor little Lindsay! He was not certain that it was _the_ bird, but he
_was_ sure that mocking-birds were not meant for cages; and he put the
quarter back in his pocket and took out his handkerchief to wipe away
the tears that would fall.
All the way home he thought of it and sobbed to himself, and he walked
through the garden gate almost into Grandmother's arms before he saw
her, and burst into tears when she spoke to him.
"Poor little boy!" said Grandmother, when she had heard all about it;
"and poor big boy, who didn't know how to be kind! Perhaps the
mocking-bird will help him, and, after all, it will be for the best."
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|