Some got on, and some died off; and Annie cried for all that died, and buried them under the woodrick; but, I do assure you, it was a pretty thing to see, when she went to them in the morning.

There was not a bird but knew her well, after one day of comforting; and some would come to her hand, and sit, and shut one eye, and look at her.

Then she used to stroke their heads, and feel their breasts, and talk to them; and not a bird of them all was there but liked to have it done to him.

And I do believe they would eat from her hand things unnatural to them, lest she should he grieved and hurt by not knowing what to do for them.

One of them was a noble bird, such as I never had seen before, of very fine bright plumage, and larger than a missel-thrush.