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Last night at dusk there was a sensation of the coming of rain, though the air was still and the sky clear. I paused under the trees to expand my lungs with their scented breathings. A semi-intoxicated bird twittered drowsily among the branches, "His happy good-night air, Some blessed hope, whereof he knew, And I was unaware."
Finally the time came when dessert was set upon the table. "I have ordered coffee up in the little sitting-room again," she said, a little shyly. "Do you mind, or would you rather have it here?" "I much prefer it there," he assured her. They sat before an open window, looking out upon some elm trees in the boughs of which town sparrows twittered, and with a background of roofs and chimneys.
A curiosity to him never grows old. He does not scream now; it is his nesting time. And so on through the afternoon. The old fence is becoming a part of the woods; and every wild thing that passes by stops to get acquainted. I was weaving an idle history of the old fence, when a chickadee twittered in the pine behind me. As I turned, he flew over me and lit on the fence in front.
There were two swallows under the eaves shadowing Lucy's chamber-windows: two swallows, mates in one nest, blissful birds, who twittered and cheep-cheeped to the sole-lying beauty in her bed. Around these birds the lover's heart revolved, he knew not why. He associated them with all his close-veiled dreams of happiness.
Nature seemed to have redoubled her energies; the swallows twittered cheerfully over the small pond; the bees returned laden with the rich fruits of their industry, humming their satisfaction; the heath sent its fragrance around; and the few sheep that Simon Wallace attended were nibbling earnestly the stunted grass, having spent the greater part of the day in the shade of a small knoll, listless from the heat which oppressed them.
He hadn't meant to intrude, he twittered; Peter had brought him; it was Peter's fault; Peter was very eccentric. Peter, I gathered, was the fat cob, who by this time had butted into the lines and was tearing at a hay net as if he hadn't had a meal for years. His alleged master looked at me hopeless, helpless. What was he to do?
"We'll have our coffee on the road, at a little inn-table out of doors in the sunrise." "Fine! By-by. See you again in about twenty minutes." Every fiber composing Aurora twittered with a distinct and separate glee while she hurried through her toilet, a little breathless, a little distracted, and mortally afraid Estelle would hear and come to ask questions.
So talked, so twittered, piped and croaked the London world over the early rumours of the marriage, this Amazing Marriage; which it got to be called, from the number of items flocking to swell the wonder.
The reed-flute of the shepherd boy twittered, as perhaps, long ago, on the great mountain that looked down in the night above the village, a similar flute twittered from the woods to Empedocles climbing upward for the last time towards the plume of smoke that floated from the volcano. And then Amedeo and Gaspare danced together and Maurice's arm was about the waist of Maddalena.
And it did not seem at all queer to her that she spoke to him as if she were sure that he would understand and answer her. He did answer. He twittered and chirped and hopped along the wall as if he were telling her all sorts of things. It seemed to Mistress Mary as if she understood him, too, though he was not speaking in words. It was as if he said: "Good morning! Isn't the wind nice?
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