ade an end
Of his handful of seed,
I hope he will be so good
As to favour us with a little music.
Sometimes he will,
And sometimes he just obstinately won't.
Tu-ite, tu-ite, tu-ite,
Andiamo, Perlino, tu-ite!
Canta, di grazia, canta."

And after some further persuasion,--you will suspect me of romancing,
but upon my word,--Perlino Piumino consented. Clinging to Susanna's
thumb, he threw back his head, opened his bill, and poured forth his
crystal song--a thin, bright, crystal rill, swift-flowing, winding in
delicate volutions. And mercy, how his green little bosom throbbed.

"Is n't it incredible?" Susanna whispered. "It is wonderful to feel
him. His whole body is beating like a heart."

And when his song was finished, she bent towards him, and--never, never
so softly--touched the top of his green head with her lips.

"And, now--fly away, birdlings--back to your affairs," she said.
"Good-bye until to-morrow."

She rose, and there was an instant whir of fluttering wings.

"Shall we walk?" she said to Anthony. She shook her frock, to dust the
last grains of birdseed from it. "If we stay here, they will think
there is more to come. And they 've had quite sufficient for one day."

She put up her sunshade, and they turned back into the alley of
hortensias.

"You find me speechless," said Anthony. "Of course, it has n't really
happened. But how--how do you produce so strong an illusion of
reality? I could have sworn I saw a greenfinch feeding from your hand,
I could have sworn I saw him cling there, and heard him sing his song.
I could have sworn I saw you kiss him."

Susanna, under her white sunshade, laughed, softly, victoriously.

"Speaking with all moderation," he declared, "it is the most marvellous
performance I have ever witnessed. If it had been a sparrow--or a
pigeon--but--a greenfinch--!"

"There are very few birds that can't be tamed," she said. "You 've
only got to familiarise them with your presence at a certain spot at a
certain hour, and keep very still, and be very, very gentle in your
movements, and croon to them, and bring them food. I have tamed wilder
birds than greenfinches, in Italy--I have tamed goldfinches, blackcaps,
and even an oriole. And if you have once tamed a bird, and made him
your friend, he never forgets you. Season after season, when he
returns from his migration, he recognises you, and takes up the
friendship where it was put down. Until at