THE STARLING.


[Illustration: Letter T.]

'Tis true, said I, correcting the proposition--the Bastile is not an
evil to be despised; but strip it of its towers, fill the fosse,
unbarricade the doors, call it simply a confinement, and suppose it is
some tyrant of a distemper, and not a man which holds you in it, the
evil vanishes, and you bear the other half without complaint. I was
interrupted in the heyday of this soliloquy, with a voice which I took
to be of a child, which complained "It could not get out." I looked up
and down the passage, and seeing neither man, woman, or child, I went
out without further attention. In my return back through the passage, I
heard the same words repeated twice over; and looking up, I saw it was a
starling, hung in a little cage; "I can't get out, I can't get out,"
said the starling. I stood looking at the bird; and to every person who
came through the passage, it ran fluttering to the side towards which
they approached it with the same lamentation of its captivity. "I can't
get out," said the starling. "Then I will let you out," said I, "cost
what it will;" so I turned about the cage to get at the door--it was
twisted and double twisted so fast with wire there was no getting it
open without pulling the cage to pieces; I took both hands to it. The
bird flew to the place where I was attempting his deliverance, and
thrusting his head through the trellis, pressed his breast against it,
as if impatient. "I fear, poor creature," said I, "I cannot set thee at
liberty." "No," said the starling; "I can't get out, I can't get out,"