August 27, 1907

Merely Moved His Home Into a Sign
Near the Grand.

A sly old rogue is the Grand opera house sparrow. After living for three years on an electric light wire under the canopy at the main entrance to the theater, within view and almost the reach of the patrons of the house, the sparrow -- a bachelor and without a nest -- the little bird disappeared the night before the house opened for this season.

That was a week ago. There was weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth on the part of the cop on the beat, the "all-kinds-of-chewing-gum-and-candy-man," not to omit Manager Judah. Yesterday morning early the news spread that the little bird had been found again. During his patrol in the early morning the policeman noticed a chirping somewhere in the innards of an electric light lign ten or twelve feet away from the Grand opera house canopy. It was the runaway. The policeman told the janitor, the janitor told the treasurer and the treasurer told the manager, and in that way the whole establishment learned that the sparrow had not deserted.

"It is our bird, sure enough," said Manager Judah yesterday. "We know every feather in him. His new bachelor quarters are better lighted than his old roost under the canopy, but he will not get to see nearly so many people. We know this is our sparrow because the top and the end of his tail is ruffled. He slept with his back to our bricks for three years, and in setting on his perch he ruffled his long tail. This would identify him in a taxidermists' establishment. Moreover, there never was a bachelor sparrow in this electric light sign till now. This is our bird, all right," and Manager Judah beamed.