I was now extremely happy, much more so than I had ever been, enjoying, at once, liberty, society, and the affectionate notice of those to whom I owed all my enjoyments. But an unforeseen event deprived me of all my felicity. My mistress, in her extreme solicitude lest I should be unable to find food, or should be deprived of it by the other birds, who sometimes attack those who have been brought up tame, left my cage fixed to the enclosure of her garden, and constantly replenished the troughs with food and water. I frequently fed there, and found it extremely convenient; but it seems that I was observed by one of the little boys who weeded in the garden, and swept the gravel-walks of the shrubbery. He watched for an opportunity, and when I was feeding one evening, he suddenly shut the door of the cage. Soon after this he left off work, and taking me gently out of the cage, carried me home with him. He lived in a little cottage, at some distance from my late residence. I had never seen any poor person’s house, therefore was greatly surprised at the appearance of this. While I was looking at the outside of it, a neat-looking little girl came to the door. “Ah, Willy! is it you,” said she: “I am glad you are come, for I wanted to show you my pretty kitten.” “Oh! I am afraid I shall not wish you joy of it,” said the boy, “for I have something here worth twenty kittens, and both must not be together.” “Then that must be a mouse,” said the child. “Not a mouse. Guess again.” “Perhaps a young rabbit, or a squirrel—but do show it me, pray do.” “Yes, if you will promise to give me the kitten, that I may take it to aunt Patty, or give it to somebody; for see, you would not like this pretty little bird to be killed.” “Oh dear, no! my good Willy. Did you bring it for me? Pray let me have it in my own hand.” “Be patient,” said the boy; “first go and shut up your kitten in the shed, till I can take it away.” “Aunt Patty gave it me,” said the little girl, “and she will take it back again. I should have been glad to have kept it, but I shall like a little bird much better.” “Peggy, Peggy, where are you?” said a voice from the interior of the cottage: “I want you, child.” “Coming, mother,” replied Peggy; “only I am looking at a pretty Robin Willy has brought me.” “A Robin!” returned her mother; “then mind the cat you have been nursing all the afternoon. The bird would not like her so well as she would like him.” “So Willy says, mother; and I am going to put puss in the shed, till he can take her back. May I, mother?” “Yes, child, and make haste, for I want you here.” Peggy made great haste, and when her mother had done with her, she returned to her brother, who had now entered the cottage, and requested to have me in her hand. “Gently, then,” said Willy: “do not pinch it: it is not like a cat.”