Early last spring, Mistress Jenny Wren took possession of the little box nailed to a tree immediately in front of Mr. Philip's house. She had not really moved in, when who should peep in but Mr. English-Sparrow.
He was abroad house hunting, and never mistrusted that anyone had got this house before him. He was thinking how well it would suit himself and mate, when whir-r-r-r! whir-r-r-r! up came Mrs. Jenny: and before he could offer a word of excuse, she began with, "Fie, fie! I took you for a gentleman! What business have you here?"
"My dear madam," began Mr. Sparrow; but Jenny would not hear him. "Out, out with you, you saucebox, you interloper!" she screamed; and she dashed at him and pecked him till he beat a speedy retreat.
The next day, however, he came round again; whether to express his regrets in due form, or to buy her off, I cannot say; but Mrs. Jenny was unwilling to accept anything but the most humble apology.

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