hould_,' he said emphatically,
taking his hat off, and scratching his head again; 'and there's not a
crumb of food on board. Maybe, they don't understand the ways of birds
here. It would be a good turn to mention it.'

"With this charitable intention he entered the house, and when he left
it, his pocket was empty, and the thrush was carried tenderly in his
handkerchief.

"'The canary died last voyage,' he muttered apologetically to himself,
'and the money always does go somehow or other.'

"The sailor's hands were about three times as large and coarse as those
of the boy who had carried the thrush before, but they seemed to him
three times more light and tender--they were handy and kind, and this
goes farther than taper fingers.

"The thrush's new home was not in the narrow streets. It was in a small
cottage in a small garden at the back of the town. The canary's old
cage was comparatively roomy, and food, water, and fresh turf were
regularly supplied to him. He could see green leaves too. There was an
apple-tree in the garden, and two geraniums, a fuchsia, and a tea-rose
in the window. Near the tea-rose an old woman sat in the sunshine. She
was the sailor's mother, and looked very like a tidily-kept
window-plant herself. She had a little money of her own, which gave her
a certain dignity, and her son was very good to her; and so she dwelt
in considerable comfort, dividing her time chiefly between reading in
the big Bible, knitting socks for Jack, and raising cuttings in bottles
of water. She had heard of hothouses and forcing-frames, but she did
not think much of them. She believed a bottle of water to be the most
natural, because it was the oldest method she knew of, and she thought
no good came of new-fangled ways, and trying to outdo Nature.

"'Slow and sure is best,' she said, and stuck to her own system.

"'What's that, my dear?' she asked, when the sailor came in and held up
the handkerchief. He told her.

"'You're always a-laying out your money on something or other,' said
the old lady, who took the privilege of her years to be a little testy.
'What did you give for _that_?'

"'A shilling, ma'am.'

"'Tst! tst! tst!' said the old lady, disapprovingly.

"'Now, Mother, don't shake that cap of yours off your head,' said the
sailor. 'What's a shilling? If I hadn't spent it, I should have changed
it; and once change a shilling, and it all dribbles away in coppers,
and you get nothing for it. But spend it i