In another moment all was darkness around him. It seemed
as if something immense had been thrown over him. A sailor boy
had flung his large cap over the bird, and a hand came
underneath and caught the clerk by the back and wings so
roughly, that he squeaked, and then cried out in his alarm,
"You impudent rascal, I am a clerk in the police-office!" but
it only sounded to the boy like "tweet, tweet;" so he tapped
the bird on the beak, and walked away with him. In the avenue
he met two school-boys, who appeared to belong to a better
class of society, but whose inferior abilities kept them in
the lowest class at school. These boys bought the bird for
eightpence, and so the clerk returned to Copenhagen. "It is
well for me that I am dreaming," he thought; "otherwise I
should become really angry. First I was a poet, and now I am a
lark. It must have been the poetic nature that changed me into
this little creature. It is a miserable story indeed,
especially now I have fallen into the hands of boys. I wonder
what will be the end of it." The boys carried him into a very
elegant room, where a stout, pleasant-looking lady received
them, but she was not at all gratified to find that they had
brought a lark- a common field-bird as she called it. However,
she allowed them for one day to place the bird in an empty
cage that hung near the window. "It will please Polly
perhaps," she said, laughing at a large gray parrot, who was
swinging himself proudly on a ring in a handsome brass cage.
"It is Polly's birthday," she added in a simpering tone, "and
the little field-bird has come to offer his congratulations."

    Polly did not answer a single word, he continued to swing
proudly to and fro; but a beautiful canary, who had been
brought from his own warm, fragrant fatherland, the summer
previous, began to sing as loud as he could.

    "You screamer!" said the lady, throwing a white
handkerchief over the cage.

    "Tweet, tweet," sighed he, "what a dreadful snowstorm!"
and then he became silent.

    The clerk, or as the lady called him the field-bird, was
placed in a little cage close to the canary, and not far from
the parrot. The only human speech which  sometimes chattered forth most comically, was "Now
let us be men." All besides was a scream, quite as
unintelligible as the warbling of the canary-bird, excepting
to the clerk, who being now a bird, could understand his
comrades very well.

    "I flew beneath green palm-trees, and amidst the blooming
almond-trees," sang the canary. "I flew with my brothers and
sisters over beautiful flowers, and across the clear, bright
sea, which reflected the waving foliage in its glittering
depths; and I have seen many gay parrots, who could relate
long and delightful stories.