At length an idea seemed to cross him; he rose, opened the window, drew
in the cage, placed it on the chair, then took up one of his uncle's
pipes, walked to the fireplace, and thrust the shank of the pipe into the
bars. When it was red-hot he took it out by the bowl, having first
protected his hand from the heat by wrapping round it his handkerchief;
this done, he returned to the cage. His movements had wakened up the
dozing model. She eyed them at first with dull curiosity, then with
lively suspicion; and presently starting up with an exclamation such as
no novelist but Fielding dare put into the mouth of a female,--much less
a nymph of such renown as Galatea,--she sprang across the room, wellnigh
upsetting easel and painter, and fastened firm hold on Gabriel's
shoulders.

"The varment!" she cried vehemently; "the good-for-nothing varment! If
it had been a jay, or a nasty raven, well and good; but a poor little
canary!"

"Hoity-toity! what are you about, nephew? What's the matter?" said Tom
Varney, coming up to the strife. And, indeed, it was time; for Gabriel's
teeth were set in his catlike jaws, and the glowing point of the pipe-
shank was within an inch of the cheek of the model.

"What's the matter?" replied Gabriel, suddenly; "why, I was only going to
try a little experiment."

"An experiment? Not on my canary, poor dear little thing! The hours and
hours that creature has strained its throat to say 'Sing and be merry,'
when I had not a rap in my pocket! It would have made a stone feel to
hear it."