University of Virginia Library

THE CANARY FAMILY.

I paid a visit to my friend Sophia, yesterday. I
could describe her; but if the portrait did justice to
her peculiar loveliness, every one who knows the
original would know it, and that she would not like;
for she is not a subject for an exhibition picture, but for
an image to be worn next the heart. I may say of her,
for in this feature of her character I trust that many of
my young friends resemble her, that she has certain
delicate chords in her composition that vibrate to whatever
is beautiful and loveable. Her first glance and
smile win a child's love; the most delicate flowers
thrive under her culture as if they were in their native
atmosphere, and the most timid birds are soon
tamed by her gentle usage, and seem to make her their
intimate and confidential friend.

Her favourites, at present, are a little family of canaries.
She gave me their history, and it is evident that
she has observed their conduct, and studied their characters,
with an interest similar to that which a tender
mother feels in her offspring. She, who watches over
her little dependents with such love, must be a more
accurate observer than the bird-fancier, who rears the
bird, as the slave merchant trains his captive, for the
market. We, therefore, request our readers will believe
our story, and we pledge them the word of a
faithful biographer that we will not add a single fictitious
circumstance to embellish it.

Sophia being much alone, procured a canary, as an
innocent and pleasant companion. She preferred a
male, because the male birds are gifted with the sweetest

song. The little creature soon seemed to feel quite
at home in Sophia's boudoir, and attached to his gentle
mistress. As far as he could, he made his society
agreeable. He seemed never tired of singing to her;
would flourish quite a pretty little accompaniment
when she played on the piano; would perch on her
shoulder, for she allowed him the liberty of the room;
and sometimes daintily pick from her plate when she
was eating. In short, he did his best to be happy in
his solitude, but after a while he got the blues, became
silent, and drooped, and Sophia said it was not good
for birds any more than man to be alone, so she went
to Lawrie Todd's, the immortalized florist and bird-fancier,
and selected the prettiest little damsel in the
aviary to be a companion for our sighing bachelor.
Some persons have thought that if the President of
the United States appointed all the matches in the
country, they would prove full as happy as they now
do. Certain it is, that if our little friend had had the
pick of his own bright isles, he could not have been
better satisfied, than he was with the selection his mistress
had made for him. He and his helpmeet were a
picture of conjugal harmony, and she, a thrifty little
wife, soon began to build her nest, and thus prepare
for the expected wants of a young family.

Sophia took care that she should not lack materials.
She hung within the cage a net-bag, containing hay
and hair. The husband seemed anxious to aid her,
and certainly did his best, but he was clumsy at house-work,
and Sophia observing that the little lady hardly
gave herself breathing time, and afraid that she would
overwork herself, contrived, while Mrs. Canary was
taking a hasty dinner, dexterously to intertwine some
of the hairs in the nest. But even Sophia's delicate
fingers were not equal to the art of the bird. At the
first glance at her nest, she lost her sweet temper, flew
into a violent passion, went to work like a little fury,
and in half a minute she had extricated every one of

the hairs inserted with such pains, and then arranging
them with the nicest skill, she seemed to say, “Shall
a mortal presume to mingle her coarse labour with that
of a heaven-instructed bird?” Her mate stood by,
the while, and it may be, laughed in his feathered
sleeve, to find his little wife a lady of such spirit, and,
like a prudent husband, resolved never to provoke it.

Sophia placed feathers within reach, aware how
very carefully the bird prepares the inside of the nest,
the part that is to come in contact with the unprotected
skin of the young bird. It was affecting to see
with what pains the little creature cut off, with her
bill, the quill of the feather, as we have often seen a
careful mother remove every pin and needle that could
by possibility scratch her child.

Sophia once more interposed, and with better success.
She scraped some very soft lint and put into
the cage. This service, Mrs. Canary very thankfully
accepted, for thanks are certainly best expressed by
using well the gift. She instantly caught up the lint,
and in a very short time completed the nest. Sophia
says, and she has a right to know, that there is as much
difference in individual character among birds as human
beings; and that lady-birds sometimes, as well as
ladies, make very indifferent house-wives. But our
heroine was not one of these. She was a pattern.
Her nest was as exactly formed as if it were done by
a mathematical rule, and the entire labour of constructing
this beautiful little edifice was performed in one
day.

In the course of a week four eggs were deposited in
it; and in eleven days, or one fortnight after, I have
forgotten which, four birds, three males and one female,
made their appearance. And now the young husband,
become a father, was more devoted than ever. He
was an epicure for his wife; selected all the delicate
morsels for her, and aided her in feeding the young
ones. She, like all good wives, was a keeper at home.

He was a pattern of conjugul kindness. Except when
employed in procuring food, he laid his head beside his
mate's, and if any stranger came into the apartment,
he would start up, sit on the side of the nest, half extend
his wings, and fix his eye on the intruder, as
much as to say, “If any discourteous knight disturb my
lady-love, I will do battle in her behalf.” But his
chivalric spirit was not called into action. Sophia took
care that no one should rudely approach the cage, and
the happy little family was unmolested.

It was a scene of perfect domestic happiness, which,
a poet says, (I do not believe him,) is the “Only bliss
that has survived the fall.”

Who would have thought that at this moment a
cloud was gathering over this harmonious contented
family.

Adjoining the house in which Sophia lives is a public
garden, one of the favourite resorts and prettiest embellishments
of our city. I wish I could transport all
my young friends there, that they might realize some
of the beautiful visions that have floated around their
brains when they have been reading the Arabian Tales.
The garden is laid out with taste, enriched with plants
of every clime, and filled with the delicious odours of
Cape jasmines and orange flowers. Every thing is
managed with taste. Before a saloon in the centre of
the garden is a pyramid of fragrant leaves and bright
blossoms, formed by placing pots on circular benches
around a pump, which but for this floral drapery would
have been a deformity. Every evening the garden is
lighted by coloured lamps hung in arches over the
walks, illuminated columns, and fantastic transparencies.
One broad avenue terminates at one extremity
by noble mirrors, that multiply to apparent myriads
the crowds that resort to this fairy land. At the other
end of this avenue a painting is hung, in which the
walk is so well represented by the art of perspective,
that it seems to stretch as far as the eye can extend; a

winding path leads to a grotto, embellished with shells
and corals, and sparkling with crystals; a fit bower for
the pretty naiads. In another secluded nook is a hermitage,
which seems to be in a deep and rocky recess,
where sits a hermit, “reverend and gay.” I would
not advise my young friends to examine all these
things by daylight, lest they should find they had been
deceived by false appearances. There is no harm in
an agreeable and innocent illusion.

But to return to our canaries, whom we left at the
moment of impending evil.

Sophia, as we said, had always allowed her first
canary the liberty of the room. The weather had
now become so warm that she sat with her window
raised, and the bird, either tempted by the sweet odours
that rose from the garden, or the love of liberty, and
probably not aware of the danger of separation from
his family, flew out of the window. Sophia was
alarmed and distressed, and she immediately hit on the
most probable expedient for recovering the wanderer.
She had her cage conveyed to the garden. The little
rover was skimming the air and perching on the green
branches, but the moment he espied his mate and her
little ones, he flew to his house again, preferring captivity
with them to freedom without them.

The cage was again taken in hand to be reconveyed
to the boudoir. Mrs. Canary seemed agitated and
flurried with the sudden changes in her condition;
her little head was turned with joy at the recovery of
her mate. She flapped her wings against the wires of
the cage, lighted on her perch, and on her nest, and
finally, for the door of the cage had been carelessly
left open, out she went. It was evident she was bewildered.
The cage was set down in the hope that
the instincts of the mother would bring her back, but
I have no doubt the poor little creature was like a person
suddenly deprived of reason. She flew round and
round, as birds are said to do, when fascinated by a

snake. There were some wild sparrows flying over
the garden, they hovered around her. This seemed
still farther to alarm and distract her; the little vagrants
encompassed her; enclosed her within their
circle, and drove her off, and she was forever lost to
her bereaved family.

I do not doubt her widowed mate felt all that bird
could feel. He expressed his affection for his lost
companion as good husbands should do, by the most
devoted care of the little ones. Sophia was a foster
mother to them, and he was father, mother, every
thing. It was really affecting to see his care of them.
It was as much as he could do, with all the aid Sophia
gave him in cracking the seeds, to supply food to the
hungry little fry; the poor fellow really became thin,
while they grew apace.

Perhaps some of our young readers may not know
how the parent prepares the food for the young bird.
An egg boiled hard, a lettuce leaf, seeds and water,
were all placed by Sophia within the bird's reach. He
would take a little of each, and appear to roll the whole
in his mouth till it was formed into a paste. Then he
seemed to swallow it; for when he was ready to distribute
it to the birds, he made a motion with his throat,
like that which is necessary to recover what is partly
swallowed. While the birds were very young, one
preparation would suffice for the whole; but in a few
days, three of them would cat all their father could
prepare at once. He was not discouraged at this, but
went patiently to work again. Sophia was alarmed
lest he should forget which was the unfed bird; he
never mistook, but always, like a just and good parent,
made an equal distribution to all his children.

Never did a nursery, under the care of the most experienced
nurse, thrive better. At the end of the
week the female bird, the only female in the brood,
was hopping off her nest. She was the most forward,
knowing bird, of her age, ever seen. In a fortnight,

she flew about the room, and lured her timid brothers
to adventure forth. She continues to manifest the same
bold, enterprising, independent character.

A friend of Sophia's who had admired, from day to
day, the devotion of the father to his young, very kindly
sent him the best reward of his fidelity, another
mate. When I saw the family last, his second wife
had built her nest, though not half so well as her predecessor.
She was sitting on her eggs, and was most
affectionately tended by her husband. Sophia complains
that he has become somewhat of a hen-hussy,
and had rather be cowering over the nest than abroad
on the wing, with his gay flock. They all live harmoniously
with the step-mother, save the little vixen
of a girl; and she pecks and scolds the lady-mama,
who bears her pettishness with calmness and dignity,
and will, I doubt not, in time, subdue the little shrew.