'Twas said, tho' for _her_ part, she thought it quite cruel,
That Monsieur LE COQ had been kill'd in a _duel_.
The _Hedge_-SPARROW publicly swore all was true,
That so long had been told of the Tyrant CUCKOO;
And the BULLFINCH _did_ whistle indeed to some tune,
When he said a _great Pleader_ had stolen a spoon!"

"It is false!" cried a little bird, known as a _wag_;
"And _I_ would indite him, at once, for _Scan. Mag._"
All the Company now rais'd their pinions and eyes,
And protested their plumes stood on end with surprise!
While young Mrs. PEE-WIT, dear sweet gentle creature!
Evinc'd _her_ abhorrence in every feature:
Her soft bosom swell'd, and she thought it was grievous, [p 18]
That malice should lead the world thus to deceive us:
For _she_ too had heard a long, odious relation
Of cruel oppression, and vile peculation;
And own'd, (tho' it _might_ be as false as the rest,)
It was whisper'd, the Goldfinch had feather'd _her_ nest.

How ev'ry one star'd! "what detestable stories!"
The PARROT aloud cried, "O! tempora, O! mores!"
But Phoebus advancing, now brought on the day,
And the PEACOCK declar'd he must hasten away.
His Companion directly Sir Argus obey'd,
And both to the Countess some compliments paid;
Then bow'd a farewell, spread their light wings again,
And found themselves, shortly, once more, _en chemin_.

[Illustration: _"They reach'd the Owl's residence, Ivy clad Tower."
p. 19._]

They walk'd, and they flutter'd, they hopp'd, and they flew,
And weary enough ere the evening grew:
But a pure chrystal stream _some_ refreshment afforded, [p 19]
And each, in his crop, certain treasures had hoarded.
Exerting their energies, both then proceeded,
Tho' many disasters their progress impeded:
His train now again poor Sir Argus tormented,
And the loss of _some_ feathers cou'd not be prevented:
The PARROT was ruffled, and torn, and distrest,
But still, _curiosity_ reign'd in his breast:
This, _this_ was the spur that our Travellers sped,
And urg'd them both onward, tho' almost half dead.

At length, to their joy, at no very late hour,
They reach'd the Owl's residence, Ivy-clad-Tower.
But what were their feelings, when after such rambling,
They still must encounter fresh clawing and scrambling?
The sage Bird of Night had long chosen her station
Aloft, where she sat in profound meditation:
The cluster