corrections to last paragraph of story

When the birdling was taken out of the shoe, they found he did not try to fly, only to hop about the room; and as they looked closer, they could see that one of his wings was hurt a little.  But the mother bound it up carefully, so she that it did not seem to pain him, and he was so gentle that he took a drink of water from a cup, and even ate seeds and crumbs out of Piccola’s hands.  She was a proud little girl when she took her Christmas present to show the children in the garden.  They had had a great many gifts, –dolls that could say “mamma,” bright picture books, trains of cars, toy pianos; but not one of their playthings was alive, like Piccola’s birdling.  They were as pleased as she, and Rose hunted about the house until she found a large wicker cage that belonged to a blackbird she once had.  She gave the cage to Piccola, and the swallow seemed to make himself quite at home in it at once, and sat on the perch winking his bright eyes at the children.  Rose had saved a bag of candies for Piccola, and when she went home at last, with the cage and her dear swallow safely inside it, I am sure there was not a happier little girl in the whole country of Italy.