Mrs. Montague was very kind to the Morris family, and Carl seemed quite pleased to do her a favor. He took her up to his room, and let her choose the bird she liked best. She took a handsome, yellow one, called Barry. He was a good singer, and a great favorite of Carl's. The boy put him in the cage, wrapped it up well, for it was a cold, snowy day, and carried it out to Mrs. Montague's sleigh.
She gave him a pleasant smile, and drove away, and Carl ran up the steps into the house. "It's all right, mother," he said, giving Mrs.
Morris a hearty, boyish kiss, as she stood waiting for him. "I don't mind letting her have it.""But you expected to sell that one, didn't you?" she asked.
"Mrs. Smith said maybe she'd take it when she came home from Boston, but I dare say she'd change her mind and get one there.""How much were you going to ask for him?"
"Well, I wouldn't sell Barry for less than ten dollars, or rather, Iwouldn't have sold him," and he ran out to the stable.
Mrs. Morris sat on the hall chair, patting me as I rubbed against her, in rather an absent minded way. Then she got up and went into her husband's study, and told him what Carl had done.
Mr. Morris seemed very pleased to hear about it, but when his wife asked him to do something to make up the loss to the boy, he said:
"I had rather not do that. To encourage a child to do a kind action, and then to reward him for it, is not always a sound principle to go upon."But Carl did not go without his reward. That evening, Mrs.
Montague's coachman brought a note to the house addressed to Mr. Carl Morris. He read it aloud to the family.
MY DEAR CARL: I am charmed with my little bird, and he has whispered to me one of the secrets of your room. You want fifteen dollars very much to buy something for it. I am sure you won't be offended with an old friend for supplying you the means to get this something.
ADA MONTAGUE.
"Just the thing for my stationary tank for the goldfish," exclaimed Carl. "I've wanted it for a long time; it isn't good to keep them in globes, but how in the world did she find out? I've never told any one."Mrs. Morris smiled, and said; "Barry must have told her;" as she took the money from Carl to put away for him.
Mrs. Montague got to be very fond of her new pet. She took care of him herself, and I have heard her tell Mrs. Morris most wonderful stories about him stories so wonderful that I should say they were not true if I did not how intelligent dumb creatures get to be under kind treatment.
She only kept him in his cage at night, and when she began looking for him at bedtime to put him there, he always hid himself.
She would search a short time, and then sit down, and he always came out of his hiding-place, chirping in a saucy way to make her look at him.
She said that he seemed to take delight in teasing her. Once when he was in the drawing-room with her, she was called away to speak to some one at the telephone. When she came back, she found that one of the servants had come into the room and left the door open leading to a veranda. The trees outside were full of yellow birds, and she was in despair, thinking that Barry had flown out with them. She looked out, but could not see him. Then, lest he had not left the room, she got a chair and carried it about, standing on it to examine the walls, and see if Barry was hidden among the pictures and bric-a-brac. But no Barry was there. She at last sank down, exhausted, on a sofa. She heard a wicked, little peep, and looking up, saw Barry sitting on one of the rounds of the chair that she had been carrying about to look for him. He had been there all the time. She was so glad to see him, that she never thought of scolding him.
He was never allowed to fly about the dining room during meals, and the table maid drove him out before she set the table. It always annoyed him, and he perched on the staircase, watching the door through the railings. If it was left open for an instant, he flew in.
One evening, before tea, he did this. There was a chocolate cake on the sideboard, and he liked the look of it so much that he began to peck at it. Mrs. Montague happened to come in, and drove him back to the hall.
While she was having tea that evening, with her husband and little boy, Barry flew into the room again. Mrs. Montague told Charlie to send him out, but her husband said, "Wait, he is looking for something."He was on the sideboard, peering into every dish, and trying to look under the covers. "He is after the chocolate cake," exclaimed Mrs. Montague. "Here, Charlie; put this on the staircase for him."She cut off a little scrap, and when Charlie took it to the hall, Barry flew after him, and ate it up.
As for poor, little, lame ****, Carl never sold him, and he became a family pet. His cage hung in the parlor, and from morning till night his cheerful voice was heard, chirping and singing as if he had not a trouble in the world. They took great care of him. He was never allowed to be too hot or too cold. Everybody gave him a cheerful word in passing his cage, and if his singing was too loud, they gave him a little mirror to look at himself in. He loved this mirror, and often stood before it for an hour at a time.
