fee under these large
leaves on sunny winter days. Just then the gardener came up to her with
crumbs of bread and bird-seed on a plate. "Even when I have not so large
a party with me as to-day, I am not quite alone," said she.

"Pray let us see your birds," cried Anton.

"You must go out of sight, then, and keep quite still. The little
creatures know _me_, but so many gentlemen would terrify them."

Sabine then went out a few steps, scattered the crumbs on the gravel,
and clapped her hands. A loud chirping instantly succeeded, and numbers
of birds shot down, hopping boldly about, and picking up the crumbs
close to her feet. They were not a very distinguished company--finches,
linnets, and a whole nation of sparrows. Sabine gently stepped back to
the door, and said, "Can you see any difference among these sparrows?
They have, I assure you, individualities of dress and character. Several
of them are personal acquaintances of mine." She pointed to a large
sparrow with a black head and a bright brown back. "Do you see that
stout gentleman?"

"He is the largest of them all," said Anton, with delight.

"He is my oldest acquaintance, and it is my dinners that have made him
so fat. He moves about among the others like a rich banker. Only hear
him! His very chirp has in it something aristocratic and supercilious.
He looks upon this crumb-scattering as a duty society owes him, and
determines generously to leave for the others all he can not eat up
himself. But I think I see a tuft on his little breast."

"A loose feather?" whispered Specht.

"Yes," continued Sabine; "I much fear his wife has pulled it out; for,
important as he seems, he is under petticoat government. That gray
little lady yonder, the lightest of them all, is his wife. Now look,
they are going to quarrel." And a great contest began for an especially
large crumb, in which all the birds manifested a strong dislike to the
banker, and the wife came off victorious.

"And now, do look!" cried Sabine, joyfully; "here comes my little
one--my pet;" and down plumped a young sparrow, with helpless outspread
wings, and fluttered up to the maternal bird, who hacked the large crumb
into little bits, and put them into its wide-opened beak, while the
father hopped up and down, at a little distance, looking with a certain
misgiving at his energetic better half.

"What a pretty sight!" cried Anton.

"Is it not?" said Sabine. "Even these little creatures have characters