One day in early spring, a young reed-warbler sat in a bush in Italy and hung his beak.
This was not because he really had anything to complain of. The sun was shining; there were flies in plenty; and no one was doing him harm. A little while before, a pretty girl, with jet-black eyes, had sat under the bush and listened to his song and kissed her hand to him.
And yet he wanted something.
He was tired of the Italian flies. He had a feeling in... more...