“Tame as a pet chicken. But mischievous. He wouldn’t hurt you for anything.”
“Humph! He would have killed me if I hadn’t waked and yelled.”
“Well, you did that surely. You feel better, don’t you?”
“I wish you’d put him outdoors, or shut him up where he belongs. I want to sit down.”
“There’s no reason why you shouldn’t,” she answered, pushing a chair toward him.
“Where did you get it—that creature?”
“Uncle found him when he was ever so young. Somebody or something, a hunter or some other bird, had hurt his wing and one foot. Eagles can be injured by the least little blow upon their wings, you know.”
“No. I know nothing about them—yet. But I shall, some day.”
“Oh! I hope so. They’re delightful to study. Tom is very large, we think. He’s nearly four feet tall, and his wings—— Spread your wings, sir! Spread!”