Bertie was fond of his birds, and had names for some of them, but his favorite was Cocky Twitters, a bold, saucy, droll fellow, who was always whisking about as if he had every thing in the bird-world to attend to. He fought like a little game-cock if any other sparrow troubled him, but he was good to the weak and timid ones, and never failed to carry a nice crumb or two to his old papa, who had something the matter with his wing, and seldom went far from the little brown house stuck like a wasp's nest on one of the trees. Cocky had often thought about coming in to call, but never had found the courage to really do it, so Bertie was enchanted when, after a good deal of tweeting, much perking up of his smooth head, and many a sidelong twinkle of his little black eye, Cocky actually hopped down upon the table. Mamma sat motionless, smiling at her little guest, and Bertie hardly dared to wink as he watched his pet's pranks. Cocky had evidently made up his mind to have a right good time, and see, taste, examine, and enjoy all he found in this new world. So he paraded about the table, ate a bit of cake, pecked at an apple, and drank prettily out of Bertie's silver mug; then he wiped his bill quite properly, took a look at the books, peeped into the inkstand, draggled his tail in the gum-pot, examined mamma's work-basket, and took a sniff at the flowers. After that he strolled over the carpet with such a funny swagger of his thin legs, such an important roll of his fat, little body, and such an impudent cock of his head, that Bertie burst out laughing, which made Cocky flit away to the top of the clock, where he sat and twittered as if he was laughing too. "I wish I could keep him a few days, he is so jolly! Couldn't I put him in Dickey's cage, and feed and be good to him, mamma?" "He would never trust you again if you did." "But I should 'splain it to him, and tell him it was only a visit." "He wouldn't like it, and I think you will enjoy him more when he makes visits of his own accord. He would be the maddest little bird that ever flew if you shut him up; but leave him free, and every day it will be a pleasure to open the pane and see him come in confidingly. He is tired of this warm room already, and trying to get out. Show him the way, and let him go." "I'll have one good feel of him anyhow, but I won't hurt him," said Bertie, yielding the point, but bound to get a little fun out of his fat friend before he went. So he danced about after Cocky, who was so bewildered he could not find his own little door, and bounced against all the wrong panes till he was dizzy, and fell down in a corner. Then Bertie softly grabbed him and though he pecked fiercely, Bertie got a "good feel" of the soft, warm mite. Then he let him go, and Cocky sat on the balustrade and chirped till all his friends came to see what the fuss was about.