“To think o’ your walkin’!” wondered Mrs. Homan. “Let’s see you do it! Land! I never ’d ’a’ b’lieved it! When I heard—”
New arrivals cut short the sentence, and Thomas Fitzpatrick and Joseph Sitnitsky came up to shake hands with Doodles.
Right in the midst of the chatter the small boy spied somebody in the hall, somebody carrying a covered cage, and Sandy Gillespie and Caruso were receiving a glad welcome when Blue reached them.
“Th’ wee birdie is a’ right noo,” the old Scotchman smiled in answer to Doodles’s question. “An’ he’ll sing for ye sune, he’ll be sae fu’ o’ joy to see his bonnie laddie again.”
The boy’s fear that Caruso would not know him quickly faded, for with a delighted whirr the mocker flew to his top perch, eager for the accustomed caress from his master’s cheek. It was a pretty thing to see, and the others crowded round, everybody talking to everybody else, while Doodles and his pet, regarding none but each other, exchanged their soft greetings.
The lad had but just returned from placing the bird in a quiet corner, when the Fleming car, which had been to the station and had stopped at The Flatiron to complete its load, deposited its passengers at the entrance.
“Why—y—ee! Christarchus!” piped the astonished Doodles; and after that he would scarcely have been surprised if the President had appeared at the door to wish him a Happy New Year.
It was a very informal party, but merriment and joy were there in full measure, and Doodles had to walk across the room a great many times to satisfy some of the still incredulous guests.
“It’s the wonderfullest thing I ever heard of!” declared Mrs. Jimmy George. “I s’posed—Evangeline, don’t you go into that dinin’-room! Yes, you may peek!—Don’t it look just beautiful!”
Doodles turned. He had been so engaged with his friends that he had had no time for anything beside. It was “just beautiful,” as Mrs. George had said,—the table loaded with dainties, the green garlands, the brilliant blossoms, the dazzling lights overhead! Surely the house on the knoll had given of its best for the little bungalow feast.