More of the same. Also one more to go under the knife.
I wonder how many of those little brown wrens and sparrows wanted freedom. I suspect warm beds and food aplenty were hard to come by in those days, and that the lifespan of a woodland bird probably approximated that of a woodland girl--especially taking into consideration the rigors of childbirth. How many Jorindas and Gretels bled out their lives onto sandy floors at the age of fifteen? Better to feed on grain and rest unmolested in the straw bed of your cage. Better to come to love the scarred and wrinkled hand of the woman who took you, in a sense, under her wing.
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