he farther side. Now that
was a lane much frequented by negroes, and, being alarmed for his
safety, I sent a boy after him, and in a moment had him in my hand. He
was a beautiful little creature, having a head covered with downy dark
feathers, and soft black eyes, which regarded me with interest, but not
at all with fear. All this time, of course, the parents were scolding
and crying, and I held him only long enough to look carefully at him,
when I replaced him on the grass. Off he started at once, directly
west,--like the "march of empire,"--went through the same fence again,
but further down, and, as I could tell by the conduct of the parents, in
a few moments was safely through a second fence into a comparatively
retired old garden beyond, where I hoped he would be unmolested. Thus
departed number one, with energy and curiosity, to investigate a
brand-new world, fearless in his ignorance and self-confidence, although
his entrance into the world had not been the triumphant fly we might
look for, but an ignominious "flop," and was irresistibly and
ludicrously suggestive of the manner of exit from the home nest of
sundry individuals of our own race, which we consider of much greater
importance.

The young traveler set out at exactly ten o'clock. As soon as he was out
of sight, though not out of hearing,--for the youngster as well as the
parents kept the whole world of boys and cats well informed of his
whereabouts for three days,--I returned and gave my attention to number
two, who was now out upon the native tree. This one was much more quiet
than his predecessor. He did not cry, but occasionally uttered a
mocking-bird squawk, though spending most of his time dressing his
plumage, in preparation for the grand _entree_. At twelve o'clock he
made the plunge and came to the ground in a heap. This was plainly a
bird of different disposition from number one; his first journey
evidently tired him. He found the world hard and disappointing, so he
simply stayed where he dropped in the middle of the path, and refused to
move, though I touched him as a gentle reminder of the duty he owed to
his parents and his family. He sat crouched upon the gravel and looked
at me with calm black eye, showing no fear and certainly no intention of
moving, even indulging in a nap while I waited.

Now appeared upon the scene several persons, both white and black, each
of whom wanted a young mocking-bird for a cage; but I stood over him
like a g