"He's no worse nor me for that," answered the old man; "aw use't to be terrible fond o' brids when aw wur yung.

At last the other turned to him, and said, "Jem; does thae know what it is that makes me like thee so weel, owd brid?"

Iv a mon be both honest an' willin', An' never a stroke to be had, An' clemmin' for want ov a shillin', It's likely to make him feel sad; It troubles his heart to keep seein' His little brids feedin' o'th air; An' it feels very hard to be deein', An' never a mortal to care.

"Child born of a bright lady." Bird, berd, brid, burd, means lady originally: thence comes our bride.

In hevene and helle, in erthe and salte see Is felt thy might, if that I wel descerne; As man, brid, best, fish, herbe and grene tree Thee fele in tymes with vapour eterne.

"Well," cried Tyrer huskily, but triumphantly, "thou'rt theer, art thou, owd brid?