The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1888-05-12
For THE UNIvERsALIsT.
ARIEL'S LOST LOVE.
BY HATTIE TYING GRIswoLD.


brass house in large bay window that
looks out upon large lawn. l have
lived here four or five years, I think, for
several times since was brought here in
little basket by the woman with whom
my master lived, the world outside has
been green and the yard has been spot
ted with beds of flowers like sparks Of
fire, and as many times this has all chang
ed before my eyes till the trees were
brown and bare, and after while the
whole world has been made white with a
feecy, festhery snow. Then I hear the
family tell how cold it is, though I am
always warm in my yellow coat with its
green trimmings.
But do not like this cold winter sea-
son any more than the family do, for then
all my friends, the birds, leave the trees
outside the window, and for long time
I see nobody but the harsh voiced blue
jay, the red headed woodpecker, and a
few other birds without voices, who hop
about in the snow and chirp. They all
seem searching for food and seldom find
it, and often wish 1 could invite them
into my warm house, where the larder is
always full, and where there has never
come even fear of famine. But l
wonder what these birds who cannot sing
are made for, and how that handsome
blue jay can survive the sound of his
own voice. He is evidently the devil bird,
rich as is his colored coat, for one day
when / hung on the porch he made a
savage attack upon me through the bars
OF my house, for no reason except that l
was singing as gleefully as I could. 1t
was no doubt envy that prompted the VIZ
olence, and confess that although I al
ways held him in scorn, since that time
have held him in the deepest execration.
Perhaps for moment the first time saw
him, may have had hutter of admira-
tion-for of course all minated birds
look about with more or less of interest
at all of their species, who come within
the limited range of their vision-for the
coming bird may be anywhere, every
where, and one is always on the alert
when wing flashes by. But I am sure
have always despised him, ever since I
first heard that rasping Notwithstanding
voice. The robin is much more to my
mind, and 1 have had several seasons Of
special admiration for one or two red
breasts. But they are rather large and
coarse on the whole, and their songs not
quite suited to the ear of a cultivated ca
nary. One summer, when hung much
out of doors, had glimpse of bird to
whom 1 could easily have given my heart.
Indeed think for time my affections
were entirely centered upon her, though
our acquaintance was but of the slightest.
only heard her two or three times, high
up above me in the trees, and saw her
but twice fit by me on her dazzling
wings. 1t was an oriole I am told, and
she went away directly with handsomer
bird than 1, indeed the most gorgeous of
his species, and have never heard of her
since.
But one or two Of my best songs were
inspired by that heeting passion, and for
many day / looked for her return. AS
far as my eyes could gaze 1 peered into
the blue to catch one more glimpse of
her fair form, and strained my ears for
one more sound of her voice. I thought
should never love again, but no heart
is ever permanently empty, and bird is
always looking for his mate until that
mate comes, be it never so long. had
never seen bird of my own kind, and
had only faint dream of what a canary
might be, until one morning discerned
just outside my cage beautiful green
and yellow bird of the most exquisitely
dainty form, who peered through the
wires at me, and seemed disposed to be
entirely friendly. went up to it at once
and it came toward me quite encoursg-
ingly, but there seemed to be some slight
but impossible barrier between us, and
1 could not touch the new conner, or lay
my neck against hers, as was disposed
to do. stood before her half the day,
gazing with the deepest interest upon
her beautiful form, and taking note of
every charm of outline and color she pos
sessed. To my mind she seemed the fair
est of created objects. The gold of her
plumage was deeper than the gold of
sunset, the green fairer than the breast of
the peacock in whom my eyes had long
delighted.
I was simply enraptured at her pres
ence, and feared to move away for an in
slant for fear that she should vanish.
Every curve of her fair form seemed to
give me new and peculiar pleasure, and
every movement seemed to me the per-
lection of grace. But alas for the invisi-