Sandie Mair, at seventy, though he has retired, still likes to feel that his spirit and his business sense have not waned. He regards his ideas as caged birds who will sing sweetly if they can be released. He is therefore incensed when he finds that Jessie, his wife, has kept a legacy from her Uncle James a secret, and that she has helped her family by stealth with the income it brings. If only she had confided in him he could have developed many of his fine schemes. News comes that a rascally solictor has decamped with the money, and Sandie regards this almost as poetic justice. When a fresh legacy, even larger, is announced from her late Uncle Alick, Jessie decides to tell Sandie, and invite his counsel. She looks forward to his co-operation in dealing with the fortune. But it has all been too much for Sandie. He is dazed, and knows, though he tried to keep it from his wife, that he is too old to cope with great problems. The family's sympathy for him is very moving as he confesses sadly that the bird cage is empty and "there are no bonny birdies left to sing..."