During the time my "'ancient"' had been expounding the position a song bird occupied in a Chinese household, our steps had led us to the far extremity of the line of cages. Here were several birds, quite similar to our black starlings, except that they were somewhat smaller and each had a bright orange beak. Instead of remaining in their cages they had been permitted. to roost either on top of the cages or on their masters' shoulders or heads. These were the conversationalists of the feathered tribe. I was informed that after their tongues had been split,—a rather difficult proceeding and doubtless rather painful—they began imitating human sounds until quite naturally, the sounds soon formed words and the words phrases. One big fellow who proudly strutted back and forth along his owner's arm spoke no fewer than five dialects and kept up a running comment with his master. I asked if these birds did not frequently fly away when once they were granted their liberty. "A dog does not stray away from a good home," my "ancient'' replied, "neither will these pets leave their cages where plenty of food and water always awaits them."
The sun had dropped behind the distant buildings of the Race Club, bringing out all the points and gables into sharp silhouette against the saffron afterglow. With the sun's departure the songs of the birds died away to a feeble twitter or two, and each sleepily sought his accustomed perch for the night.
"And the song contest'? I enquired, "when will it be held? 1 should like to be present at the finals, to see whether the judgment of Orient and Occident coincides, regarding the beauties of a bird's song.""
"Come the next fine day of spring, and we will try to hold it then," the old gentlemen replied. "After all, contests are of minor importance, they breed jealousy and enmity between the owners. We always say we will hold a formal contest, but I don't re member ever having heard one. It is just a little jest we have between ourselves, for would it not be presumptuous for mortals to judge the songs of one of nature's greatest gifts to man?'
I strolled along-homeward in the soft spring twilight marvelling once again over the teachings of Oriental philosophy. I felt that I had been greatly privileged to view for a moment, at least, the gentle heart of a Chinese gentleman, whose love of a bird's song, rendered him more closely akin to the remainder of our great human} family.
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.