“Oh! he’s heard me mention you,” answered Blue discreetly.
“He must be a very nice boy,” Doodles decided. “I should like to know him. You tell him I thank him ever, ever so much. I think I will eat it right away, wouldn’t you?”
Blue agreed that it was a good time.
“A quarter for mother, and a quarter for you, and I guess one for Granny O’Donnell—oh, and one for Caruso! He likes sweet apple! Perhaps it will make him sing.”
Blue laughed. “Where’s your quarter coming from?” he asked.
“Oh, did I forget me?” smiled Doodles innocently. “Well, you can give me one, too.”
“There aren’t but four quarters in an apple, old feller—mother, Caruso, Granny, and I would take ’em all.” His eyes twinkled.
“That’s so! I forgot about the quarters! Well, Caruso won’t mind if he doesn’t have a whole one, he’s so little; one will do for both of us.”
Blue’s lips puckered as he cut the fruit in range of the watchful brown eyes; but he saw to it that the owner of the apple received his full share.
To the delight of Doodles, the bird ate with unusual zest what Blue scraped for him, and then danced about, eyeing that outside the cage.