DOODLES
CHAPTER I
THE BARGAIN
Fragments of the auctioneer’s entreaties floated through the open doorway of the bird shop and, above the rattle and roar of the street, clacked in Blue’s ears.
“Ladies and gentlemens ... beautiful lark ... emperor of singers ... not swell to look at, but.... Only twenty cents!—Twenty-two am I offered? ... shame, ladies and gentlemens!” And so on, in tones of pleading and mild complaint.
Blue, meanwhile, studied the placarded window, where all manner of feathered stock, “slightly damaged, but every bird a bargain,” was announced to be sold to the highest bidder.
“Lovely starling ... ladies and gentlemens,... how much?” the persuasive voice skipped on, but was rudely interrupted by another.
“Huntin’ fer bargains?” A boy of Blue’s own size nudged him in the back. “Why don’t yer go in ’n’ git one fer Doodles? ’T ’u’d keep him f’m bein’ down ’n’ dumpy. My aunt—”
“‘Down ’n’ dumpy’—Doodles!” Blue’s rallying laugh drowned the “ladies and gentlemens” drifting through the doorway. “Huh,” he chuckled, “guess yer don’t know Doodles!”
“Ain’t he, now? S’posed all sick folks was. My aunt she—”