How beautiful it looked to
my weary eyes!
"Dearest Dickey Downy, good-bye," she said to me, and her voice had a
little tremor in it. "You had a right to be happy and live out of
doors among the trees, and I kept you a prisoner. Please forgive me
for it, and forgive me for wearing birds' wings on my Sunday hat. I
shall never do such cruel things again. It's coming spring now,
Dickey, so be happy and fly away to the beautiful clouds."
She set the little wire door wide open. A warm zephyr swept by, laden
with the scent of wild flowers and all sweet growing things. My heart
fluttered with joy. I heard the far cry of the hills as I floated out
and upward, higher and higher, on joyous wing. I was free, free!
End of Project Gutenberg's Dickey Downy, by Virginia Sharpe Patterson
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