The poor little canary was sitting In a corner.

Its eyes were half shut, one leg hung loose, and it was making faint chirps of distress.
Carl was very much interested in it.

He got Mrs.Montague to help him, and together they split matches, tore up strips of muslin, and bandaged the broken leg.

He put the little bird back in the cage, and it seemed more comfortable.

"I think he will do now," he said to Mrs.Montague, "but hadn't you better leave him with me for a few days ?" She gladly agreed to this and went away, after telling him that the bird's name was Dick.
The next morning at the breakfast table, I heard Carl telling his mother that as soon as he woke up he sprang out of bed and went to see how his canary was.