The Vital Spark | Page 4

the needle to
the anchor. Forbye, I ken a gentleman that breeds canaries; he's a
riveter, and if I wass gettin' him in good trum he would maybe give me
a lend o' wan. If no', we'll take a dander up to the Bird Market, and pick
up a smert wan that'll put the hems on Sandy Kerr's Wee Free. No man
wi' any releegion aboot him would caal his canary a Wee Free."
The Captain and the mate of the Vital Spark left their noble ship at the
wharf that evening--it was a Saturday--and went in quest of the
gentleman who bred canaries. He was discovered in the midst of an
altercation with his wife which involved the total destruction of all the
dishes on the kitchen-dresser, and, with a shrewdness and consideration
that were never absent in the Captain, he apologised for the untimely
intrusion and prepared to go away. "I see you're busy," he said, looking
in on a floor covered with the debris of the delft which this ardent lover
of bird life was smashing in order to impress his wife with the fact that
he was really annoyed about something--"I see you're busy. Fine, man,
fine! A wife need never weary in this hoose--it's that cheery. Dougie
and me wass chust wantin' a wee lend of a canary for a day or two, but
och, it doesna matter, seein' ye're so throng; we'll chust try the shops."
It was indicative of the fine kindly humanity of the riveter who loved
canaries that this one unhesitatingly stopped his labours, having
disposed of the last plate, and said, "I couldna dae't, chaps; I wadna
trust a canary oot o' the hoose; there's nae sayin' the ill-usage it micht
get. It would break my he'rt to ha'e onything gang wrang wi' ony o' my

birds."
"Chust that, Wull, chust that!" said Para Handy agreeably. "Your
feelings does you credit. I would be awful vexed if you broke your he'rt;
it'll soon be the only hale thing left in the noose. If I wass you, and had
such a spite at the delf, I would use dunnymite," and Dougie and he
departed.
"That's the sort of thing that keeps me from gettin' merrit," the Captain,
with a sigh, confided to his mate, when they got down the stair. "Look
at the money it costs for dishes every Setturday night."
"Them riveters iss awfu' chaps for sport," said Dougie irrelevantly.
"There's nothing for't now but the Bird Market," said the Captain,
leading the way east along Argyle Street. They had no clear idea where
that institution was, but at the corner of Jamaica Street consulted
several Celtic compatriots, who put them on the right track. Having
reached the Bird Market, the Captain explained his wants to a party
who had "Guaranteed A1 Songsters" to sell at two shillings. This
person was particularly enthusiastic about one bird which in the
meantime was as silent as "the harp that once through Tara's halls." He
gave them his solemn assurance it was a genuine prize roller canary;
that when it started whistling, as it generally did at breakfast time, it
sang till the gas was lit, with not even a pause for refreshment. For that
reason it was an economical canary to keep; it practically cost nothing
for seed for this canary. If it was a songster suitable for use on a ship
that was wanted, he went on, with a rapid assumption that his
customers were of a maritime profession, this bird was peculiarly
adapted for the post. It was a genuine imported bird, and had already
made a sea voyage. To sell a bird of such exquisite parts for two
shillings was sheer commercial suicide; he admitted it, but he was
anxious that it should have a good home.
"I wish I could hear it whustlin'," said the Captain, peering through the
spars at the very dejected bird, which was a moulting hen.
"It never sings efter the gas is lighted," said the vendor regretfully,

"that's the only thing that's wrang wi't. If that bird wad sing at nicht
when the gas was lit, it wad solve the problem o' perpetual motion."
Para Handy, considerably impressed by this high warrandice, bought
the canary, which was removed from the cage and placed in a brown
paper sugar-bag, ventilated by holes which the bird-seller made in it
with the stub of a lead pencil.
"Will you no' need a cage?" asked Dougie.
"Not at aal, not at aal!" the Captain protested; "wance we get him doon
to Brodick we'll get plenty o' cages," and away they went with their
purchase, Para Handy elate at the imminent prospect of his prize canary
winning an easy pound. Dougie carefully carried the bag containing the
bird.
Some days