I know not how long I lay there. When at last I made an effort to raise myself, the pain of the fall and fatigue of the journey so paralysed me that I could not move. The dread of death filled my breast when I saw approaching me two charming birds, one a nicely-marked coquettish Magpie, the other a rose-coloured Ringdove. The Dove stopped a few paces off and gazed on me with compassion, but the Magpie hastened to my side, saying, “Ah, my poor child, what has befallen you in this lonely spot?” “Alas! madam, I am a poor traveller left by a courier on the road; I am starving.” “What do I hear?” she exclaimed, and flew to the surrounding bushes, gathering some fruits, which she presented on a holly leaf. “Who are you?” she continued; “where do you come from? Your account of yourself is scarcely to be credited; you are so young, you have only cast your down. What are your parents? how is it they leave you in such a plight? I declare it is enough to make one’s feathers stand on end.” While she was speaking I raised myself a little and ate the fruit ravenously, the Dove watching my every movement most tenderly. Seeing I was athirst, she brought the cup of a flower half full of rain-drops, and I quenched my thirst, but not the fire kindled in my heart. I knew nothing of love, but my breast was filled with a new sensation. I should have gone on dining thus for ever, had it been possible, but my appetite refused to keep pace with my sentiment, nor would my narrow stomach expand. The repast ended and my energies restored, I satisfied the curiosity of my friends by relating my misfortunes. The Magpie listened with marked attention, while the tender looks of the Dove were full of {246} sympathy. When I came to the point where it was necessary to confess ignorance of my name and nature, I felt certain I had sealed my fate. [Illustration: RESCUED.] “Come,” cried the Magpie, “you are joking. You a Blackbird? Nonsense; you are a Magpie, my dear fledgling—a Magpie, if ever there was one, and a very nice one too,” she added, touching me lightly with her fan-like wing. “Madam,” I replied, “it seems to me that I am entirely white, and that to be a Magpie—— Do not be angry, pray.” “A Russian Magpie, my dear; you are a Russian Magpie.” “How is that possible, when I was hatched in France, of French parents?” “My good child, there is no accounting for these freaks of nature. Believe me, we have Magpies of all colours and climes born in France. Only confide in me, and I will take you to one of the finest places on earth.” “Where, madam, if you please?”