bird left at home seemed a little lost for a few days, moped about,
often visited the empty cage, but in a short time entirely abandoned it,
and evidently looked no more for his friend. But he is changed too: not
quite so gay as before; not so much singing; and not a word of the soft
chattering talk we heard so constantly while his beloved friend was
here.

THE ROSY SHIELD.

Soft falls his chant as on the nest
Beneath the sunny zone,
For love that stirred it in his breast
Has not aweary grown,
And 'neath the city's shade can keep
The well of music clear and deep.

And love that keeps the music, fills
With pastorial memories.
All echoing from out the hills,
All droppings from the skies,
All flowings from the wave and wind
Remembered in the chant I find.

ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING.

XIV.

THE ROSY SHIELD.

One of the most winning inhabitants of my bird-room last winter bore on
his snow-white breast a pointed shield of beautiful rose-color, and the
same rich hue lined his wings. With these exceptions his dress was of
sober black and white, though so attractively disposed that he was an
extremely pretty bird--the rose-breasted grosbeak.

Nor was beauty his only attraction; he was a peculiar character, in
every way different from his neighbors. He was dignified, yet his
dignity was not like that of a thrush; he was calm and cool, yet not
after the manner of an orchard oriole. He possessed a lovely gentleness
of disposition, and a repose of manner unparalleled among my birds.
Vulgar restlessness was unknown to him; flying about for mere exercise,
or hopping from perch to perch to pass away time, he scorned. The
frivolous way common to smaller birds of going for each seed as they
want it, was beneath him. When he wished to eat he did so like a
civilized being, that is, took his stand by the seed-cup, and stayed
there, attending strictly to the business in hand till he had finished,
leaving a neat pile of canary-seed shells in one spot, instead of the
general litter common to cages. The meal over, he was ready to go out of
the cage, place himself comfortably in one of his favorite corners, and
remain for a long time, amused with the life in the room and the doings
in the street, on both of which he seemed to look with the eye of a
philosopher. In the same deliberate and characteristic way he disposed
of a meal-worm, or a bit of beef, whic