used often to
take the cage down, with the bird in it, and take it into his play-room
or his hut, or hang it upon the bough of a tree before the parlour
window, that Mag might enjoy the fresh air. Sometimes, too, Henry let
the bird out, that she might enjoy herself a little, for as the
feathers of one of her wings were cut close, she could not fly; and she
was very tame, and never having known liberty, she was as fond of her
cage, when she was tired or hungry, as some old ladies are of their
parlours.

"Let us take Mag with us out of doors," said Henry; and the cage was
taken down and carried out between the two children, whilst Mag kept
chattering all the way, and was, if anything, more pert and brisk than
spoiled magpies generally are. They first went to the hut, and set the
cage on the bench, whilst Henry and Emily busied themselves in putting
a few things to rights about the place, which had been set wrong by a
hard shower which had happened the night before. There were a few
fallen leaves which had blown into the hut from some laurels growing on
the outside; and Henry said:

"I do hate laurels; for they are always untidy, and scattering about
their yellow leaves when all the trees about them are in their best
order."

Whilst the children were going in and out after these leaves, to pick
them up and throw them out of sight, Mag kept hopping from one perch to
another, wriggling her tail, twisting her head to one side and another,
and crying, "Oh, pretty Mag!" "Mag's a hungry," in a voice more like
scolding than anything else.

"What now, mistress?" said Henry.

"She is not in the best possible temper," replied Emily.

"She wants to be out," answered Henry; "she does not like to be shut
up."

"But," said Emily, "it would be dangerous to let her out here, so far
from the house, and amongst the trees."

Henry was in a humour common not only to small but great boys on
occasions. He chose, just then, to think himself wiser than his sister,
and, without another word, he opened the cage door, and out walked
Mag, with the air of a person who had gained a point, and despised
those who had given way to her.

And first she strutted round the inside of the hut, crying, "Oh, pretty
Mag!" with a vast deal of importance, and then she walked out at the
entrance, trailing her tail after her, like a lady in a silk gown.

"She will get amongst the shrubs," said Emily; "and how shall we get
her out of them?"

"Never fear