"There ain't no need o' bein' so surprised," she said in that peculiar tone with which one who has spent another's money always defends his purchase,—"it's a stuffed parrot without any head."
"A stuffed parrot without any head!" Mrs. Lathrop repeated limply, and her tone was numb and indescribable.
"How much did it—" she asked after a minute.
"I bid it in for one dollar 'n' ninety-seven cents,—I was awful scared f'r fear it would go over your two dollars, an' it wasn't nothin' that I'd ever want, so I couldn't 'a' taken it off your hands if it had gone over your money."
"I wonder what I can do with it," her neighbor said feebly.
"You must hang it in the window so high 't the head don't show."
"I thought you said it didn't have no head."
Miss Clegg quitted the sofa abruptly and came over to her own chair; the tea appeared to be beginning to take effect.
"It hasn't got no head! If it had a head, where would be the sense in hangin' it high a tall? It's your good luck, Mrs. Lathrop, 't it hasn't got no head, for the man said 't if it had a head it would 'a' brought four or five dollars easy."
Mrs. Lathrop got up and went out into the hall to seek her parrot. When she brought it in and examined it by the light of the lamp, her expression became more than dubious.