She went away for a while, but every few hours through the day she ran up to Carl's room to see how the fish and canaries were getting on. If the room was too chilly she turned on more heat; but she did not keep it too warm, for that would make the birds tender.
After a time the canaries got to know her, and hopped gayly around their cages, and chirped and sang whenever they saw her coming. Then she began to take some of them downstairs, and to let them out of their cages for an hour or two every day. They were very happy little creatures, and chased each other about the room, and flew on Miss Laura's head, and pecked saucily at her face as she sat sewing and watching them. They were not at all afraid of me nor of Billy, and it was quite a sight to see them hopping up to Bella. She looked so large beside them.
One little bird became ill while Carl was away, and Miss Laura had to give it a great deal of attention. She gave it plenty of hemp seed to make it fat, and very often the yolk of a hard boiled egg, and kept a nail in its drinking water, and gave it a few drops of alcohol in its bath every morning to keep it from taking cold. The moment the bird finished taking its bath, Miss Laura took the dish from the cage, for the alcohol made the water poisonous. Then vermin came on it; and she had to write to Carl to ask him what do. He told her to hang a muslin bag full of sulphur over the swing, so that the bird would dust it down on her feathers. That cured the little thing, and when Carl came home, he found it quite well again. One day, just after he got back, Mrs. Montague drove up to the house with canary cage carefully done up in a shawl. She said that a bad-tempered housemaid, in cleaning the cage that morning, had gotten angry with the bird and struck it, breaking its leg. She was very much annoyed with the girl for her cruelty, and had dismissed her, and now she wanted Carl to take her bird and nurse it, as she knew nothing. about canaries.
Carl had just come in from school. He threw down his books, took the shawl from the cage and looked in. The poor little canary was sitting In a corner. Its eyes were half shut, one leg hung loose, and it was ****** faint chirps of distress.
Carl was very much interested in it. He got Mrs. Montague to help him, and together they split matches, tore up strips of muslin, and bandaged the broken leg. He put the little bird back in the cage, and it seemed more comfortable. "I think he will do now," he said to Mrs. Montague, "but hadn't you better leave him with me for a few days?"She gladly agreed to this and went away, after telling him that the bird's name was ****.
The next morning at the breakfast table, I heard Carl telling his mother that as soon as he woke up he sprang out of bed and went to see how his canary was. During the night, poor, foolish **** had picked off the splints from his leg, and now it was as bad as ever. "I shall have to perform a surgical operation." he said.
I did not know what he meant, so I watched him when, after breakfast, he brought the bird down to his mother's room. She held it while he took a pair of sharp scissors, and cut its leg right off a little way above the broken place. Then he put some vaseline on the tiny stump, bound it up, and left **** in his mother's care. All the morning, as she sat sewing, she watched him to see that he did not pick the bandage away.
When Carl came home, **** was so much better that he had managed to fly up on his perch, and was eating seeds quite gayly.
"Poor ****!" said Carl, "A leg and a stump!" **** imitated him in a few little chirps, "A leg and a stump!""Why, he is saying it too," exclaimed Carl, and burst out laughing.
**** seemed cheerful enough, but it was very pitiful to see him dragging his poor little stump around the cage, and resting it against the perch to keep him from falling. When Mrs. Montague came the next day, she could not bear to look at him. "Oh, dear!"she exclaimed, "I cannot take that disfigured bird home."I could not help thinking how different she was from Miss Laura, who loved any creature all the more for having some blemish about it.
"What shall I do?" said Mrs. Montague. "I miss my little bird so much. I shall have to get a new one. Carl, will you sell me one?""I will give you one, Mrs. Montague," said the boy, eagerly. "Iwould like to do so." Mrs. Morris looked pleased to hear Carl say this. She used to fear sometimes, that in his love for ****** money, he would become selfish.
