ich man's blest
'Tis freedom, sweet freedom that I love the best.'"

"That's a pretty song," said Jimmieboy. "And I think maybe you are
right. I feel that way myself sometimes. Once in a while when I'm told I
can't do something, I feel that way. I always want to do that thing more
than ever."

"You are just like me, then--though really I didn't think much about
freedom and how nice it was, and what a dreadful thing captivity was,
until I had a little chat one night with a song-bird. She was cooped up
in a cage, and sometimes she nearly broke her wings flattering up
against the bars of it trying to get out. As I watched her I wondered
how she could sing so happily when she was shut up that way, and I asked
her about it. She answered me softly, 'It isn't I that is happy. It is
my song that is happy because it is free.' And then she sang this little
verse to me:

"Though they shut me close in these brazen bars,
Though they keep me a captive long,
Yet my notes will rise
Till they touch the skies.
No man can imprison my song."

"I've always felt sorry for birds in cages," said Jimmieboy, when the
Wizard had spoken. "And I've wondered, too, how they could sing so
sweetly when all the day long they were locked up with nothing to do but
jump from one perch to another, or swing in that little swing at the top
of the cage."

"Well, there's one thing that's nice about their lives," said the
Wizard. "They don't have anybody to quarrel with. I think that's very
fine."

"That's true," said Jimmieboy. "And then, too, when one bird wants to
swing there isn't any other little bird that he has to give up to; but
I'd rather be free, and take my chances of getting the swing, wouldn't
you?"

"Rather!" ejaculated the Wizard. "But, my dear fellow, we are wasting
time. The Merboy will be back in a few minutes, and if you want to see
all the wonders of this place we must hurry. Come. Let's go out into the
garden."

The queer little fellow leading the way, the two new friends went out of
the drawer. As they sauntered along, Thumbhi reached out his hands and
plucked two pretty flowers from a bush at the side of the path, and
putting one of them in his mouth handed the other to Jimmieboy.

"You must be hungry by this time," he said. "Eat that."

"Flowers aren't good to eat, are they?" asked Jimmieboy.

"Cauliflowers and the flowers of this garden are. That is nothing but a
biscuit-bush I plucked