A PET SPARROW.

Nelson Evening Mail, Volume XI, Issue 74, 16 March 1876, Page 4

A PET SPARROW.

Mr F. B. Grant, St. Peter's-equare, Hammersmith, writes as follows to the Spectator :— The rectory of Christ Church, in the island of Barbadoes, West Indies, where I resided, is prettily situated amidst trees, on a hill overlooking a fishing village, wbere the waters of the sea, on a olear summer day, are of all colors of green, and where tbe tropical heat is softened down by a constant land breeze. This is just the abode suited to birds, and consequently the neighborhood abounds in sparrows. Being alone at tbe time, many of tbe , sparrows soon struck up an acquaint-, ance with me, and were among tbe first to make their appearance in the most unceremonious manner at the breakfasttable. One of them, however, more familiar than the rest, seemed determined that I should adopt it as a pet. By degreeß I induced it to pick bread crumbs out of my hand. Our acquaintance gradually matured into unsuspecting friendship, and ended at ' last in positive: love, as the sequel will show. Lengthened time rolled on, and every day the sparrow was my constant companion. If I was in my study it was there. If I was reading in the draw-ing-room, it was perched on the tip of ray boot. If X did not rise by daylight, it would come in at the window, left open purposely for its convenience, and flutter upon my body, begging, as it were, that I would attend to its early wants. And more than this. I missed tbe bird for a while, and grieved, thinking tbat it had fallen a prey to some voracious cat or to the gunshot of some wayfaring traveller. Every day I went to the accustomed window and called it by name (for I had given it the name of " Dick"), but no Dick appeared. I persevered, however, in loudly calling for it, as it knew my voice well; and after an absence of some weeks, I one morning observed three sparrows flying directly towards me. I held out my hand as usual, and they alighted on the palm of it. To my agreeable surprise, there was Mr or Mrs Dick (I know not which), with two well-fledged olive branches, which were handed over to me for adoption. This is not all. Mrs Diek — for from the affection I shall assume it was the mother-bird — resolved to build her nest another time nearer home, and repeatedly came to me with a straw in her beak, evidently hoping that I would be her assistant-architect. Finding that I declined tbe task, she selected a; rose-tree, which I could easily touch from my bed-room window, and there entwining three of the tallest branches, she built (as birds only can build) a beautiful nest. From tbat time sbe continued to commit ber fledglings, as a matter of oourse, to my care. But here comes the climax:. The time drew near

for me to leave the West and to join, my family in EngUud, where I bm now. It seemed as if my sparrow, by instinct, amounting almost to reason, suspected my movements. Perhaps there was something lonely and strange in the appearance of tbe rectory, the greater portion of the furniture having been removed;, but be it what.it, may, Mrs Dick, although Bhe lived unfettered in the trees, and had the range of tbe atmosphere, would soaree-quit my presence, and mirabile dictM) on returning home one moonlight nigbt, I found the loving bird sleeping like a peaceful, infant on my pillow. I could Bcarce believe my own eyes; but so it waß. On approaching to see if it was really a sparrow, it flew upon the top of the wardrobe, and there it remained all the night. The character of Mrs Dick was well known, and numerous visitors (among whom I may mention the name of Bishop Mitchinson), often witnessed the influence I had over, tb.e sparrow tribe, especially over the one that appeared to sorrow most of all my departure. I won them by gentleness and kindness, and my reward was ample.