OPENING THE DOOR.

Auckland Star, Volume LXIII, Issue 185, 6 August 1932, Page 3 (Supplement)

OPENING THE DOOR.

They boarded tlie Japanese boat at Alexandria and were bound for Marseilles, coming back from their visit to Egypt, but directly Doris, got on deck she felt she was not going to enjoy it so much after all. First she disappointed because the stewardess was not dressed in a kimono, but in an ordinary black dress. True, she did slide her hands down her frock in Oriental fashion when she bowed. Then Doris felt too ill, because the sea was high, to enjoy the first meals, or even to strip the paper off the Japanese chop-sticks that were offered to her when /she eat down. But what really mattered was these birds, these hundreds of birds. They were in such tiny cages, and were such pathetic little things. The cages were stacked on top of one another, anyhow, in the cold. "All going to Paris," she was told by a sailor. And all were going to be transferred to another boat at Brindisi. That was a good thing, because they did look so miserable, Doris thought, lying in her bunk as the ship drove its way through the seething waves. "But I should have liked to buy them all myself, hire a ship and sail back to Japan, and let them all fly, into their own home woods again." That night she had some sleep at last, and dreamed of the birds. The next day she woke to find her mother standing beside her, saying tenderly: "Doris, you have slept for hours. You've missed Brindisi, altogether." "Oh, mummy. But it seems calmer, and that's a blessing." a "Yes, it's much smoother, the wind has died down. And the sun is shining. In fact, it's turned from winter to summer. Dress and come to breakfast." Doris was only too glad to obey. Had the birds gone? She hardly dared to ask. Deck was quite spoiled by that company of little cages up at the end, where birds drooped and sat listlessly huddled together. She soon saw, when she went upstairs into the bright warm morning air, that they had been landed at Brindisi. for the deck was clear of them. Only on» cage remained. It contained a- pretty little pinky-brown bird, Doris could not imagine its name. She asked a Japanese steward, who said something very rapidly. "He ee3 telling you it ees left behind by meestake," the stewardess told her, going past at that moment. Doris breakfasted, and wondered. If she could only buy that pretty bird for herself. The Mediterranean was lovely tlrs morning; they were coming up the Italian coast in sunshine, that little darling bird would perk up-as it grew warmer. She longed to possess it. She consulted her mother. They asked the captain, a little man, very grave and efficient. The purchase was made there and then with smiles and bows; the bird was now her very own. i "You will hang it up in the schoolroom at home, no doubt," smiled an English lady. Doris looked at the little bird in its tiny home, a home 80 small that it could not properly stretch its bright wings. She had a far better plan than the schoolroom. The sea was blue, deepest blue, reflecting a glorious blue sky. She leaned over the side .holding the cage, and looked happily at her darling bird. They approached a sweet smelling island, full of fragrant herbs. This was a bird, clearly, of sun and air. There were glossy trees on the isla«d ... Doris opened the cage door, and the little Wrd stared a moment into the dazzling air, then, with a sudden glad burst of song, it pushed its way out, .spread its pinky wings, and flew away happily islandward.