“We understand that bird’s song very well,” said the young sparrows; “but one word was not clear. What is the beautiful?”
“Oh, nothing of any consequence,” replied the mother sparrow. “It is something relating to appearances o’er yonder at the nobleman’s house. The pigeons have a house of their own, and every day they have corn and peas spread for them. I have dined there with them sometimes, and so shall you by-and-by, for I believe the old maxim—‘Tell me what company you keep, and I will tell you what you are.’ Well, over at the noble house there are two birds with green throats and crests on their heads. They can spread out their tails like large wheels, and they reflect so many beautiful colours that it dazzles the eyes to look at them. These birds are called peacocks, and they belong to the beautiful, but if only a few of their feathers were plucked off they would not appear better than we do. I would myself have plucked some out had they not been so large.”
“I will pluck them,” squeaked the youngest sparrow, who had as yet no feathers of his own.
In the cottage dwelt two young married people, who loved each other very much, and were industrious and active, so that everything looked neat and pretty around them. On Sunday mornings early the young wife came out, gathered a handful of the most beautiful roses, and put them in a glass of water, which she placed on a side-table.
“I see now that it is Sunday,” said the husband as he kissed his little wife. Then they sat down and read in their hymn-books, holding each other’s hands, while the sun shone down upon the young couple, and upon the fresh roses in the glass.
“This sight is really too wearisome,” said the mother sparrow, who from her nest could look into the room, and she flew away.
The same thing occurred the next Sunday, and indeed every Sunday, fresh roses were gathered and placed in a glass, but the rose-tree continued to bloom in all its beauty. After a while the young sparrows were fledged, and wanted to fly, but the mother would not allow it, and so they were obliged to remain in the nest for the present, while she flew away alone. It so happened that some boys had fastened a snare, made of horsehair, to the branch of a tree, and before she was aware, her leg became entangled in the horsehair so tightly as almost to cut it through. What pain and terror she felt! The boys ran up quickly and seized her, not in a very gentle manner.
“It is only a sparrow,” they said. However, they did not let her fly, but took her home with them, and every time she squeaked they knocked her on the beak.
In the farmyard they met an old man, who knew how to make soap for shaving and washing, in cakes or in balls. When he saw the sparrow which the boys had brought home, and which they said they did not know what to do with, he said, “Shall we make it beautiful?”
A cold shudder passed over the sparrow when she heard this. The old man then took a shell containing a quantity of glittering gold leaf, from a box full of beautiful colours, and told the youngsters to fetch the white of
