d far over and fixed his eyes on her, crest
raised to its greatest height, wings held slightly out, and addressed
her in a very low but distinct song, which resembled the syllables
"cur-dle-e! cur-dle-e! cr-r-r"; the latter sounding almost like a cat's
purr. After singing this several times, and being slighted by her
leaving the cage, he laid his crest flat down, muttered something so low
that it could not be noted, and looked very much put out. Soon, however,
he shook his feathers violently, flung himself at her, and she dodged,
as before. When both happened to be for a moment in their own cages, the
door was suddenly closed between, and each had his own, as at first.
Madam was delighted, but the cardinal resented it; he tried to remove
the obnoxious barrier, pecked at it, shook it, and could not be
reconciled. He grew hungry and was obliged to eat, but between every two
seeds he returned to struggle with the bars that kept him from her.
Meanwhile Virginia had apparently forgotten all about him, eating and
making her toilet for the night, as cheerful as usual.

The next morning, the outside doors of the two cages were opened, and
both birds at once came out into the room. The cardinal, not yet over
his tiff of the evening before, took wing for the trees outside the
windows, and brought up, of course, against the glass. He was greatly
disappointed. He alighted on top of the lower sash, tested, examined,
and tried to solve the mystery. Virginia, too, tried to go through the
pane, but learned in one lesson that it was useless. She did not care
much about it any way, for she was perfectly contented inside. She went
around the room, hovering slowly under the ceiling, which is always of
interest to birds, and then set herself to work in a most systematic
manner to find out all about the new world she was in. She examined the
outside perches and tried each one; she explored the bathing table,
flirted out a little water from the dishes, and at last thought it time
to make acquaintance with her neighbors.

She began with the robin, and flew to his roof. The robin was not
pleased, snapped at her, opened his mouth, uttered a queer low
robin-cry, "seep," and pecked at her feet, while she stood quietly
looking down at the show from above, as much interested as though it
were arranged to amuse her. At length she began to make the more formal
visit. She dropped to the door-perch and approached the entrance. The
inhospitable owner me