"No," said Mr. Faulkner, who followed him in, "I'm afraid that would frighten her; but if you had a butterfly net, with a very long handle, we might catch her with that."
"Just the thing," said Leicester; "and there is one in the storeroom; I remember seeing it there."
He brought it, but the handle was not long enough; so Mr. Faulkner proposed that they try placing a ladder against another tree near by, and then from the top of that, endeavor to reach the bird with a net.
Mary watched the proceedings with great interest. "Catch Mary!" she cried; "catch pretty Mary!"
"You bet we will!" cried Leicester, and when the ladder was adjusted he climbed to the top of it, carrying the long-handled net with him.
They all thought the bird would be frightened at the net and fly away, or at least attempt to do so.
But she seemed to think it a game in which she played an important part, and she sat quietly on the branch, occasionally remarking, "Catch Mary, pretty Mary!"
With a sure aim, Leicester pushed the net towards the bird and brought it down over her head, then with a dextrous twist, he turned it upside down, with the bird in it, and lowered it carefully to Mr. Faulkner, who was standing below. At this unexpected indignity, Mary set up a ferocious squawking, the Black children redoubled their yells, and the Dorrance children cheered with delight.
Mary was taken from the net, unharmed, and restored to her happy mistress, who determined to send to town at once for a padlock for the cage door.
But though commotions such as these were of frequent, almost daily occurrence; yet when they were not such as to interfere with the routine of her household management, Dorothy did not allow them to worry her.