Here the person sitting next to me, speaking low, informed me that this was Jimmy Jacob, the sweep, that he owned a pet jackdaw, known to every one in the village, and supposed to be the cleverest bird that ever was. He added that Jimmy could be very amusing about his bird. "I'd already begun to feel curious about that bird of yours," I said, addressing the sweep. "I'd like very much to hear his history. Did you take him from the nest?" "Yes, Jim," said the man next to me. "Tell us how you came by the bird; it's sure to be a good story." Jimmy, having found a seat and had a mug of beer put before him, began by remarking that he knew someone had been interesting himself in that bird of his. "When I went home to tea this afternoon," he continued, "my missus, she says to me: 'There's that bird of yours again,' she says." "'What bird,' says I. 'If you mean Jac,' says I, 'what's he done now?--out with it.' "'We'll talk about what he's done bimeby,' says she. 'What I mean is, a gentleman called to ask about that bird.' "'Oh, did he?' says I. 'Yes,' she says. 'I told him I didn't know nothing about it. He could go and ask you. You'd be sure to tell him a lot.' "'And what did the gentleman say to that?' says I. "'He arsked me who you was, an' I said you was the sweep an' you had a carpenter's shop near the pub, and was supposed to do carpentering.' "_Supposed_ to do carpentering! That's how she said it. "'And what did the gentleman say to that?' says I. "'He said he thought he seen you at the inn, and I said that's just where he would see you.' "'Anything more between you and the gentleman?' says I, and she said: 'No, nothing more except that he said he'd look you up and arst if you was a funny little fat man, sort of round, with a little red face.' And I said, 'Yes, that's him.'" Here I thought it time to break in. "It's true," I said, "I called at your cottage and saw your wife, but there's no truth in the account you've given of the conversation I had with her." There was a general laugh. "Oh, very well," said Jimmy. "After that I've nothing more to say about the bird or anything else." I replied that I was sorry, but we need not begin our acquaintance by quarrelling--that it would be better to have a drink together. Jimmy smiled consent, and I called for another pint for Jimmy and a soda for myself; then added I was so sorry he had taken it that way as I should have liked to hear how he got his bird. He answered that if I put it that way he wouldn't mind telling me. And everybody was pleased, and composed ourselves once more to listen. "How I got that there bird was like this," he began. "It were about half after four in the morning, summer before last, an' I was just having what I may call my beauty sleep, when all of a sudding there came a most thundering rat-a-tat-tat at the door. "'Good Lord,' says my missus, 'whatever is that?' "'Sounds like a knock at the door,' says I. 'Just slip on your thingamy an' go see.'