CHAP. III. A state in which our hero's bliss stood still: ALTERED FROM POPE. THE heat of the sun having abated the birds left their covert, in search of an evening's repast. The Canary-Bird and his friend went out on the same errand. The stranger was shewn great variety of entertainment: he was taken C 3 18 THE CANARY-BIRD. taken first to new - ploughed grounds, where food presented itself in abundance. Here, he met with grey-larks, whose colour resembles the earth so nearly that, you may walk very close without being able to perceive them. I have seen a dog hunt them over a field by the ear only, and pass by those that were silent without discovering them in a single instance: and, what is more remarkable, these birds, relying on the protection which their colour affords, will permit you to approach within a very small distance, before they As the food which was in so great plenty on the ploughed fields consisted chiefly of insects, it was of a sort to which the Canary-Bird had been wholly unaccustomed; the yellow-hammer, therefore, conducted him next to some fallow-land, where a variety of plants produced the most exquisite grains. While they were enjoying themselves on this fruitful spot, the yellow-hammer enquired of the Canary in what manner he had been used to pass his days? "In the morning,” replied the Canary-Bird," on the opening of the window-shutters, a sudden burst of light succeeds to total darkness: this event always fills me with gaiety, which I proclaim by my songs. An hour or two having elapsed, a young lady, who is indeed my sovereign, my guardian, and my only companion, enters the room, and, generally, comes to my cage. To this lady's care I am indebted for food and water. says she loves me; She always and I love her, and tell her so in many a song. Sometimes, too, she brings me plants like these, which I pull through the wires of my cage, and nibble. She gives me sugar, and egg; and offers offers me, beside, many things that I know not how to eat. She sits down to the harpsichord-and I spend the morning, very frequently, in emulating her voice. This I cannot do-but the attempt has considerably improved my own. We cannot all reach excellence; but if we try to do so, we shall approach much nearer than if we make no effort. "In the evening, when the light of day seems declining, a new radiance is displayed. Candles are lit, and I am much admired for resuming my songs. After some time, this new light, in |