The Montgomery advertiser., 1904-11-01
SWAN SONG OF A CANARY.
BY WALTER BROWNE.


 .Chirpl Chirp, Chirp!" Only the feeble cry of a canary bird is heard in that. miserable little attic at the top of a furnished room house in the most squaiid section of great city
 The little tufted yellow head can surely hold only tiny and unreason- ing thoughts. and yet, if one could have read alright that plaintive 'chirpi chirp! chirp." this is the story it had to tell:
 Come! come come to me. sweet mistress. Oh! why have they covered me up? How can I sing to you when the light of day is hidden by this winding sheet about my cage? Naught but the husks of seeds are scattered on the unchanged sand. The waterfront is dry. have not seen the sunlight for four long days. How can I sing? Oh! sweet mistress, why have you forgotten nae?
 There Is the scent of hyacinths, of white roses, and gardenias all around. such as were waited to my cage beneath the little porch where first we sang our songs together; mistress. sweet mistress, mine. But now all is silent--so still. so silent that I even fear to chirp.
 And yet I know 1t is not night, for the sounds of the city reach me as. with ruffled plumes. sit and walt, wait. wait for light. for food. Oh! sweet sweet mistress, mine. have you forsaken me and left me here to die?
 Have you forgotten the days when. In the proud plumage of my youth. sang my earliest songs to you, inr cited by the invitation of your pretti- ly pursed lips? How often together we rejoiced, you in the fresh glow of girlhood. caroling some simple song, and |. with swelling throat, striving to outsing you. An! Those were glor- ious days. From the gladness of our hearts we sang together then,
 My cage was but a rude. rustic affair. crudely built of boughs and twigs. and 1t hung upon the wall of little cottage in the quite and peace full country. Around the porch where your hammock, was slung grew just such flowers as now diffuse their per fume here, although I cannot tell how such scent should reach me in this stifling room.
 What was the song sang you then? Will 1t not call you back to me7 Listen? I will try.
 ''Trill? Tr-r-r-r-rll, Joyi Joy Joyl Sweet! Sweet-sweet! Tr-r-rrll!
 How can I sing? My song sounds like the ghost of buried happiness in an effort to escape, awaking the echoes of it's tomb.
 "chirp! chirp! Chirp! Oh. mistress, mine. will you never come7
 You came and SsSve me light and love once more. when. after that ter rible time of dismal darkness, and the din of travel. which came near terrifying me to death, the covering was taken from my cage and we found ourselves in the noisy city. How fluttered with alright when. even with your gentle hands, you took me from my old cage and put me in this home of gilt and colored glass. No more we saw the trees and flow CTS. but still we sang our songs, ana NJ was happy.
 "Thefe was another voice added to our anthems. a strong manly voice. which sang--so thought-far too late into the night. With my head under my wing. 1t seemed to my tiny mind that the music was marred. II would often wonder why we left the pleasant porch where first we sang together; for the heat and glamor of that effulgent flat But you. sweet mistress. your plumage was much more beautiful then before, and I- we'll liked him because he gave me sugar. Together we sang as happily, or nearly as happily as ever.
 When he came no longer, I strove to cheer you up with my singing. did not? Even during those dreary days when your voice was only heard in moans and sobs. knew you missed him much, for even I--did I not miss the sugar he used to give me7
 When we left that flat I wondered why we did not go back to the dear old home again. But even though