The education of this second pair of birds was almost completed, and Dan said as much to Ellen. He had taught them different tricks, and had fitted two ladders in the cage, up and down which they hopped, keeping time, step for step.
"But will they ever be sold?" exclaimed Ellen almost despairingly.
"It is a long time before we make a commencement," said Dan. "There's Susan."
When Susan entered, she examined the dress which Ellen was making, and suddenly exclaimed,--
"Why, Ellen, where are your boots?"
Dan looked up quickly, and then directed his eyes to Ellen's feet. Poor Ellen stammered a good deal, and striving to hide the truth from Dan, got into a sad bewilderment of words.
"Nay, but, Ellen," interposed Dan in a grave voice, "you don't mean to say that you have been sitting all the morning without your boots?"
"Yes, I have," said Ellen, compelled to confess.
"But why, my dear?"
"When I got up this morning, I looked for them, and could not find them. Perhaps I can find them now." And Ellen ran out of the room; but she soon returned, shaking her head, and saying, "No, they're gone. Never mind; it can't be helped."