“Oh, see what Eb has!” she cried. “Shut the window quick!”
Adele, who was nearest, jumped up, but Eb was too quick for her and was beyond reach before she could get to him. “He’s gone,” she cried. “He has gone off with my brush. How shall we get it?”
“You stay here and watch him,” said Jessie, “and I will go down and see if I can grab him before he gets away with it.”
She ran downstairs while Adele watched from the window. Still carrying the brush, Eb walked across the roof to the limb of the tree which overhung one side of the house. He took a short flight to the limb, walked along it, flew to the smokehouse and stood there. The door, however, was shut by now, and he was not sure that he could venture to fly down from the roof. Now was Jessie’s time. She ran to the kitchen.
“Give me some dough or corn bread, or something, quick, Minerva,” she said.
Minerva picked up a piece of corn bread from a plate and gave it to her. “What in the world is the matter with the child?” she said as Jessie scurried out. She followed the little girl to where she stood crumbling the corn bread into one palm. “Well, I declare,” she said. “What has he got now?”
“Adele’s paint brush,” Jessie told her. “Come, Eb. Come get some nice supper.”
Eb cocked his head to one side, and regarded the outstretched hand for a moment, then he dropped the paint brush and flew down to Jessie’s shoulder. The paint brush rolled down from the roof to the ground. Scattering the crumbs before him, Jessie set Eb down, and ran back, stopping under the window from which Adele was looking and calling up to her, “Here it is. I made him drop it.”
“I’ll come down and get it,” replied Adele.
“Bring Cloudy with you,” Jessie called back.