She was a very pretty bird, the only being of the lower order of creation to which he had ever really been attached.

Stretching out her supple, delicate form, whose silken feathers of dull green here and there assumed a pinky tinge in the sunlight, she took hold of the fig with her claws, then ripped it open with her beak.

But when she had raked it she ate but little, and let all the rest fall upon the floor.

Still grave and impassible, the Cardinal looked at her and waited.

Quite three minutes went by, and then feeling reassured, he began to scratch the bird's poll, whilst she, taking pleasure in the caress, turned her neck and fixed her bright ruby eye upon her master.