The second night I had hard work to catch him. He ran into the hall and would not come when I called to him. The third night, when he saw me making preparations to dress, he acted like mad. He hopped all around me, put out his tiny wings, and tried to fly onto me, opened his bill, but not a sound came out. As I stood in front of my dressing table he flew to the top of his cage (which stood on the floor) to the back of a chair (which was near me), then up to my shoulder, chirping away so merrily that I knew he was saying: "Please take me with you." Of course, after that it is needless to say I took him down-stairs, and he has gone down every night since, where he remains until 8 o'clock, then is put into his basket, and I hear no more from him until morning. On pleasant mornings I sit on the piazza and Little Billee sits on my hand or plays in my lap. When I walk on the sidewalk Little Billee goes, too, and never offers to fly away, and if the wind blows he holds on tight. Sometimes he sings and always seems interested in all that is going on about him. Twice Little Billee has flown out of my window from fright. Once he was on my shoulder when a very small girl with a very large hat came up to him and away he flew. The next time a large bunch of ferns was brought to me. I thought he would like it and think it was a nice little tree, but I am all the tree he seems to care for. He was so frightened he flew onto a chair, and as I held up a fern out of the window he went. Both times when my maid went to look for him she could not find him until she peeped, then he answered, and she found him sitting in the grass waiting to be picked up, and he was delighted to get back to me. Little Billee has never gone to any one except my physician, and that was when I had had him about a week. He went to him, hopped all over his shoulder, picked at his collar and tie and was very friendly. Now he will not go to even him, and I feel sure I am Trilby and his only love. Perhaps the children who read this will think Little Billee is a little angel bird and too good to live, but I will say right here he is too bad to die. Like all bright children sometimes he is very naughty. For instance, when I want to lie quietly on my bed in the day time and Little Billee does not, he will play for some time running up on the top of my pillow, then down again, hop on my arm, then under the sheet until he finds my hand; back he goes and does the same thing over again. When he gets tired of that he will sit on my chin and be very loving, kiss me in the mouth, and chirp away. When he finds I am not going to open my eyes or speak to him he will peck and bite my eyes, nose, ears, cheeks, and lips, and I assure you they are not love bites either. Then again, when he wants to sit on my shoulder and I prefer he should sit on my hand, he will fly up every time I take him down, and bite hard at my hand, and for such a little bird he has a very big bite and a very fierce look.