Wralph the wren was flying across a country road when—splat—he hit the windscreen of a motorcycle. Jim, who was riding that bike, was startled and, when he saw Wralph lying in the road, very sad.
“Maybe the little bird is still alive,” Jim thought. He was a bird lover. In fact, he’d owned a canary that had died just a few months ago.
Jim checked the bird and its tiny heart was beating a mile a minute, but Wralph was completely unconscious. Jim took the bird home and put it in the birdcage that had belonged to his canary.
In the morning, Wralph woke from his concussion, looked around him and saw the bars, and exclaimed, “Oh, no! I must have killed that biker!”
