"Mamma," I said, "would he sell us one? I have two marks." A mark is the
same as a shilling.

Mamma asked him the question. He looked round his many cages doubtfully.
"I did not want to sell any just now," he said, and I really don't think
he did. "But it would be a shame for her to pine to death. Yes--I can
let you have one of these young birds for three marks. Choose which you
like," and he pointed to a cage containing three or four.

"I have only two marks," I whispered.

[Illustration]

"And there is a new cage to get," said Charley. But Mamma was very kind.

"I will help you," she said. "Yes, sir, we will take one of these. You
are sure they will be friends?"

"No fear," said the man in his queer, jerky way, "and this young bird
will sing like a heavenly angel next spring. Will you take him now, or
shall I bring him this evening?"

"We have to get a new cage," said Mamma; "I should be glad if you would
bring him."

Then we set off again with Coo-coo in the starling's cage, and we had
another procession down the street to the ironmonger's shop, where we
chose a beautiful cage. It was awfully kind of Mamma, wasn't it?

And that evening after poor little Frise-tete was buried in the garden
under a little rose-bush we made the new cage all ready, and Coo-coo
and the new bird, whom we fixed to call "Fritz," as he was a German,
took up their quarters in it. They were very good friends--indeed
Charley and I thought it rather horrid of Coo-coo to be so quickly
consoled.

"I don't believe she has any heart at all," I said. "I don't believe a
bit that she would have pined alone."

But the "canary-gentleman," every time he came--and he was really very
good, he came every two or three days to see how the wing was and would
not take any more money--assured us that if she had not had a companion
she would have died.

And certainly I must say that Fritz deserved her to like him. He was so
good to her. You could scarcely believe a little bird could have had so
much sense. For some days she could only move about stiffly, and it was
difficult for her to pick up seeds. And just fancy, Fritz used to bring
her seeds in his beak and feed her! It was the prettiest sight possible.

Her wing never got quite well, though it left off hurting her. But she
never could stretch it out quite evenly with the other. And about a year
ago, after two years of peaceful life with Fritz, she died quite
suddenly. She was perfectly well t