and Mrs.
Waddledot (the two mamas deputed to open the campaign), each with a cup
of very prime Mocha coffee, and a massive fiddle-pattern tea-spoon. On
the opposite side of the room, in a corner, was a very large cage, in
the sole occupancy of a solitary Java sparrow.

"My poor bird looks very miserable," sighed Mrs. Greatgirdle, (the
hostess upon this occasion.)

"Very miserable!" echoed Mrs. Waddledot; and the truth of the remark
was apparent to every one.

The Java sparrow was moulting and suffering from a cutaneous disorder
at the same time; so what with the falling off, and scratching off of
his feathers, he looked in a most deplorable condition; which was
rendered more apparent by the magnitude of his cage. He seemed like the
_last_ debtor confined in the Queen's Bench.

"He has never been himself since the death of his mate." (Here the bird
scarified himself with great violence.) "He is so restless; and though
he eats very well, and hops about, he seems to have lost all care of
his person, as though he would put on mourning if he had it."

"Is there no possibility of dyeing his feathers?" remarked Agamemnon
Collumpsion, feeling the necessity of saying something.

"It is not the inky cloak, Mr. Applebite," replied Mrs. Greatgirdle,
"that truly indicates regret; but it's here," (laying her hand upon her
left side): "no--there, under his liver wing, that he feels it, poor
bird! It's a shocking thing to live alone."

"And especially in such a large cage," said Mrs. Waddledot. "_Your
house_ is rather large, Mr. Applebite?" inquired Mrs. Greatgirdle.

"Rather, ma'am," replied Collumpsion.

"Ain't you very lonely?" said Mrs. Waddledot and Mrs. Greatgirdle both
in a breath.

"Why, not--"

"Very lively, you were going to say," interrupted Mrs. G.

Now Mrs. G. was wrong in her conjecture of Collumpsion's reply. He was
about to say, "Why, not at all;" but she, of course, knew best what he
ought to have answered.

"I often feel for you, Mr. Applebite," remarked Mrs. Waddledot; "and
think how strange it is that you, who really are a nice young man--and
I don't say so to flatter you--that you should have been so
unsuccessful with the ladies."

Collumpsion's vanity was awfully mortified at this idea.

"It _is_ strange!" exclaimed Mrs. G "I wonder it don't make you
miserable. There is no home, I mean the '_Sweet, sweet_ home,' without
a wife. Try, try again, Mr. Applebite," (tapping his arm as she rose;)
"fa