seen him before,
you will be able at once to recognise him in case of your possibly
encountering him in the future.

Well, one day, meeting this gentleman "drumming around" our suburb, I
had the curiosity to stop and inspect his live freight. In doing so I
lighted upon Dicky Chips, as I subsequently christened him: a sturdy
little bullfinch, who looked somewhat out of place, and lonesome,
amongst his screaming companions from foreign lands. I purchased him
for a trifle, and have never since regretted the bargain, for, he was a
dear, bright little fellow; so tractable, too, and intelligent, that I
was able to educate him to a pitch of excellence, which, I believe, no
bullfinch in England ever reached, before or since.

When invited properly, he would dance a hornpipe, whistling his own
music in sharp staccato notes, as from a piccolo. He could likewise
"present arms" with a little straw musket which I had provided for him;
besides feigning to be dead, and allowing you to take him up by the
legs, his head hanging down, apparently lifeless, the while, without
stirring--although he would sometimes, if you kept him too long in this
position, open one of his beady black eyes, and seem to give you a sly
wink, as if to say, "A joke is a joke, certainly; but you may, perhaps,
carry it too far!" I could not enumerate half his accomplishments in
this line; and, as for whistling operatic tunes--the most difficult
ones, with unlimited roulades, were his especial choice--"Bai-ey Je-
ove!" as Horner would say, you should only have heard him.

As I allowed him to go in and out of his cage at pleasure, he roamed the
garden according to his own sweet will, whenever and wherever he
pleased, without reservation; and he, I may add, seldom abused the
privilege. Some time after I had given him to Min, he actually found
his way back one morning to our house again. I shall never forget the
circumstance: you should have witnessed his delight at seeing the old
place and his old friends again! He flirted, he danced, he rolled in
paroxysms of joy on the little table by the window, whereon he had been
accustomed to go through his performances:--he chirped, he whistled; in
fact, he behaved just like a mad bird.

But he did not desert his mistress, mind you. I think he even got
fonder of her than he had even been of me. Still, often after
discovering that he could thus vary the monotony of his existence by
paying a visit to his old domici