The history of a tame robin

Part 3

Chapter 34,045 wordsPublic domain

“After this unpleasant visit, I remained some time without any material interruption to my comfort. My new protectress was very fond of me, and treated me with the greatest kindness. The room I inhabited was, as I had supposed, her study; and as she was there occupied several hours in the day, I was not without company, nor often shut up in my cage. I had, indeed, abundant reason to be satisfied, as far as she was concerned; yet I was not without apprehension on account of the younger children of the family, who were all spoiled by indulgence. You, perhaps, wonder how it happened that Miss Stanton was so amiable; but I have yet to inform you, that the present Mrs. Stanton was not her own mother. She was so unfortunate as to lose the latter, when about seven years old, and her father had shortly after married a good-hearted but weak woman, who rendered her children miserable, by the very means she employed in order to promote their happiness. They were incessantly wishing for something they had not, and never satisfied with what they had; and their mother, instead of endeavouring to repress this unreasonable propensity, encouraged it, by attending, with the utmost anxiety, to their most trivial or capricious wishes, which were no sooner gratified, than new desires arose in endless succession. I could here enumerate several instances of their whims and humours, which fell under my notice, but such details of folly would rather fatigue than amuse you. I must, however, observe, that Miss Stanton was so amiable, that she conciliated the affection of the children (though she never indulged their caprices) and that of her mother-in-law, to whom she always behaved with the greatest tenderness and respect.

“You must now prepare for a more eventful period of my history, for I am about to enter on a new mode of life. I had not been two months with Miss Stanton, when she and Mrs. Stanton were invited to spend a few weeks, with a friend who lived at a considerable distance. On hearing of this, I was extremely anxious to learn how I was to be disposed of during their absence, and finding that I was to be entrusted to the servants, all of whom were entirely controlled by the children, I thought it high time to provide for my safety by flight: determining to risk any thing, rather than remain exposed to the malice and mischief of these spoiled children, or, at least, to continual apprehension from them.

“I found no difficulty in effecting my escape, for I was considered so tame, that I was sometimes allowed to be about the room when the door was open. On one of these occasions (Miss Stanton being busily occupied in finishing a drawing, which she intended as a present to the lady she was going to visit) I dexterously slipped out.

“I now found myself in the hall by which I at first entered. My heart palpitated with terror, lest I should be perceived by any one, and I anxiously sought for some opening by which I might get into the garden; fortunately, I perceived that the staircase-window was open. My joy on this discovery is indescribable. It almost deprived me of the power of flight: but making, at last, one vigorous effort, I darted into the garden, where I remained no longer than was absolutely necessary to recover myself, lest I should be pursued, and conveyed back to a place which I now considered as a prison.

“My freedom at this time was less irksome to me than formerly, for I felt a degree of courage to which I was before a stranger; and that, I imagine, preserved me from the attacks of the other birds, for they now treated me very courteously. One of them in particular, by his kindness, so engaged my affection and gratitude, that we became inseparable companions, and shortly after the commencement of our friendship, we mutually agreed to build a nest together. Ah! then it was that I first knew the delights of liberty and society. Our labours, sweetened by affection, were converted into pleasures; while hope, displaying to our imagination the little brood nourished by our mutual toils, and reared by our mutual cares, imparted a new relish to every enjoyment.

“Time thus happily spent passed quickly, and the blissful period at length arrived, when our little ones, bursting their brittle enclosure, greeted our delighted ears with their chirping, sweeter to us than the most melodious warblings. Oh, what were my feelings then! To you they must be inconceivable, for it is not in the power of language to describe them. Of the cares and anxieties of a mother, you may form some idea, by recurring to the solicitude of your own; but the sensations of delight she experiences, can be appreciated only by one in a similar situation. For some time we tended our offspring with unremitted care: they throve amazingly, and becoming strong enough to sustain a longer absence on our part, my mate and I ventured to fly abroad together. Our first excursion was short, for I was all anxiety; but finding our little ones safe and well on our return, we were, by degrees, emboldened to quit them during a longer period.

“One delightful morning, after having supplied the wants of our family, we set out together. We were allured by the charms of the weather, further than we intended. I being the soonest tired, wished to rest on an adjacent hedge: my mate followed, and had nearly overtaken me, when my cries warned him not to approach he fatal spot; for, to my utter astonishment and dismay, I found myself held, as it were by magic, and unable to raise my feet. When my first surprise was abated, I discovered that it was owing to a glutinous substance which was spread on the branch I had sought to rest upon, and from which I vainly strove to disengage myself. My poor mate, finding that he could not effect my release from this cruel snare, (for such in reality it was,) wished to remain with me and share my fate; but I besought him, in the most earnest and pathetic terms, to consider our helpless little ones, who must certainly perish, if he, their only protector, abandoned them. My entreaties had the desired effect; for, after some hesitation, he consented to go and feed them, promising to fly back quickly, in order, if possible, to ascertain my fate.

“Ah! what a dreadful moment was that of our separation. It seemed as if we were never to meet again; and the event but too well justified the forebodings of my despair, for, shortly after, two boys came to the hedge, and gently extricated me from the spray, rejoicing at the success of their plan, and reckoning the amount of what they expected to gain by disposing of me. I was a little consoled at finding they did not intend keeping me themselves; for what could I have expected from such cruel boys, or how could I have borne the sight of those, who, in a single moment, had destroyed all my happiness.

“They walked on together till we came to a large town, where entering a shop, in which were birds of various kinds in cages, they offered me for sale. The dealer’s proposals, however, came very far short of their expectations; for being a hen bird, my song was held in little estimation. The boys were almost inclined to keep me, but the shopkeeper making a trifling advance in his offer, the bargain was closed, and I established in a situation entirely new to me, but which proved more tolerable than I had imagined it could have done. Comforts I had none but food and cleanliness. Indeed, such was my dejection when I remembered my late happiness, that I should not have been susceptible of any enjoyment short of restoration to my family.

“I remained a long time with the bird-fancier, for, though frequently offered for sale, I was as often refused, for the reason I before mentioned. At length, that Providence which deigns to watch over the meanest of our species, conducted Master Charles to deliver me from my prison. He purchased me for his little sister, and, from his attention to me during our journey, and from the apparent kindness of the whole family towards our species, I have some hopes of comfort here. Yet, such is my aversion to confinement, under any circumstances, that I shall certainly seize the first opportunity to regain my liberty.”

CHAP. IV.

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.

CHAP. V.

The wet weather, of which we had had abundance, at length disappeared, and summer, in her gayest apparel, rapidly advanced. I greatly enjoyed the genial warmth of the sun, and frequently basked on the window-frames, where it was transmitted, with increased ardour, through the glass.

My young readers may remember, that when I was out for two or three hours, the ground was wet and the air chilly, and I was consequently unwilling to remain in so uncomfortable a state; but now that the weather was warm and settled, the trees covered with beautiful foliage, and I able to provide for myself, I must confess that I frequently viewed the pleasing landscape before me, with something like a wish that I were at liberty to roam at large in it, and I began to calculate the happiness I should enjoy, when, according to the avowed intention of my mistress, I was to be at my own disposal. I indulged myself the more freely in these anticipations, as I was not guilty of any ingratitude in so doing, for I knew that she rather wished to encourage than repress my desire of liberty.

One morning my mistress rose much later than usual, on account of a slight indisposition, and I finding the time rather long, amused myself by looking out at the window. There was before the house an extensive lawn, in which were a few trees. I saw a multitude of little birds alternately flying about, and resting on the waving branches, and sporting with that active gaiety which a delightful summer morning inspires. Suddenly there appeared among them a much larger bird, who seemed to terrify them all, for they flew with great precipitation towards the shrubbery. One of them, however, was closely pursued by the large bird, and though he made every effort to escape, was overtaken and caught by him. If this is play, thought I, it is very rough play. But how shall I describe the horror I felt, when I saw the monster begin to devour the inoffensive little bird! I uttered a scream, and flew to hide myself behind my mistress’s pillow, scarcely knowing what I did or where I was; though, had I reflected for a moment, I should have known that I was entirely out of danger.

When I recovered myself, I remembered the goldfinch’s narrow escape on a similar occasion, and I felt my ardour for liberty somewhat abated; for I began to consider that there might be other dangers, of which I was entirely ignorant, and this one was sufficiently appalling.

When my mistress had been up some time, she took me with her to the school-room. I was fully intent on relating what I had witnessed to my companion, so flew immediately towards her cage. She was not there; but this did not surprise me, for neither she nor I was much confined. I expected to find her about the room, but she was not to be found; and the entrance of Lady Seymour put an end to my doubts and my search at the same time, for little Julia met her with tears in her eyes, and deplored the loss of her bird, which had, she said, flown out at the window.

“But why, my love,” said her mamma, “did you let her out when the window was open?”

“It was I, dear mamma,” interrupted Anna, “who was so unfortunate; I did not know the window was open.”

“You mean careless, not unfortunate,” returned Lady Seymour: “you ought to have been sure it was shut.”

“Dear mamma,” said Julia, “poor Anna is very sorry: if I had let out her bird, I should not have needed one reproach; and I did not intend to cry, for fear of vexing her more, but, indeed, I could not help it.”

“I am pleased with your affectionate conduct on this trying occasion, my little Julia,” said Lady S. “particularly as it is founded on the noblest of all principles—that of doing as you would be done to. A hundred little birds are not to me so valuable, as one instance of goodness in my children. I will soon procure you another little pet.”

“I shall not soon like another so well as my own poor little Goldey,” said Julia: and I thought just as she did. I had become much attached to my companion, and felt her loss very severely, especially when my friends went out, for I was then quite solitary. Besides, I knew not what might be her fate; nor was I certain that she was not the unhappy victim I had seen in the morning.

CHAP. VI.

My readers may remember, that little Charles came home merely for the holidays, which being now over, his papa proposed taking him back to school; at the same time expressing a wish that Lady Seymour would be of the party, as she might then visit some relations, whom she had not seen for several years. The excellent mother did not like to leave her home, where she was always usefully occupied, for the benefit of her family or her poor neighbours; or agreeably entertained by the innocent gaiety of her children, during their hours of relaxation, which they always passed with her. No society was so delightful to her as theirs nor could any more pleasing indulgence be granted them, than permission to go to their dear mamma. However, she now yielded to Sir Charles’s earnest solicitation to accompany him, well knowing that she could place implicit confidence in Miss Sedley, during her absence.

My young friends behaved very sensibly on this occasion; for though they felt great uneasiness at parting with their beloved mother, they forbore all expressions of regret in her presence, lest they should diminish the pleasure she was likely to enjoy in visiting her relations. The two little girls who were in the nursery accompanied their mamma; for she observed, that it would be no loss of time to them, as they had not yet commenced their studies.

I shall pass over the parting scene, which was, indeed, a mournful one, and introduce my readers to my young friends in the school-room, where they assembled soon after the departure of their parents. They were evidently dejected, but no impatient expressions escaped them. Their kind governess insensibly diverted them from the contemplation of their grief, by various amusements, all contributing to their health or improvement. She at length succeeded in tranquillizing their minds, and they, sensible of her kindness, evinced towards her affection and gratitude.