This female friend is a widow who receives no one, and who spends her days in scolding, an occupation which she varies by picking faults and feathers out of her step-children. I flatly refused the proposal she made through an old Crow, to replace her when she felt inclined to leave the nest in search of pleasure. This occurs chiefly in the evening. I think she is a person of very doubtful morality indeed. The offer was a tempting one, but I would rather starve than aid the dark schemes of this wicked female; for dark they must be, as she takes no {340} one into her confidence save a blackguard-looking Crow who, I am certain, lives by plunder. [Illustration] So you see I not only have the misfortune to be, but to have made, a formidable enemy of this unscrupulous dame. I think I shall risk destroying my bad leg, and limp out of the dilemma into pastures new and an atmosphere more congenial. You whose goodness once drew me out of a like scrape, will pity my misfortunes and sigh for me more profoundly than I deserve. Still the thought of your kind interest will strengthen me nearly as much as if you were here to lend me a helping wing. I seem to feel as it were your guardian spirit hovering over my head; so real does it appear that I shall implicitly trust to its guidance. This you will set down as a morbid fad of mine, as your spirit knows better than to trust itself into such latitudes. Be that as it may, your influence, if not your spirit, is ever with me. THE SWALLOW’S FIFTH LETTER. It is now a month since I left my last lonely retreat. A Linnet who was wandering about without any fixed purpose promised to help me. You may judge how eagerly I seized the proffered help, and the glorious prospect of quitting my disagreeable neighbour, and the still more disagreeable hole in which I had been cooped up so long. My foot is far from well, and, although my friend tries to persuade me to the contrary, I fear I shall be lame to the end of my days. I ought here to quote the fable of the “Two Pigeons,” so often brought under my notice when you lectured me on my vagabond life.