However, the bread was crumbled and thrown out; and by the time prayers were over, the whole flock were back again, pecking away with much satisfaction, and twittering and chirping as if they were telling each other what very kind people lived in this house, and how thankful they should be for such good friends. At least, this was what Maggie told Franky they meant, as he watched them with his chubby face pressed close against the window-pane.
"No shoes and stottins," said he. "Poor birdies! Dere foots too told. Mamma buy shoe for birdies."
His little sisters thought this very sweet and funny in Franky, and they hugged and kissed him till he thought he had said something very fine, and kept repeating it over and over again.
Pretty soon it stopped snowing, and the sun came out. Then Maggie and Bessie were much amused in watching the people clearing the snow from the sidewalks, and the boys snow-balling one another. Presently Mrs. Bradford missed Franky from the room. As she had the baby, she could not go after him, but sent Maggie.
She ran from room to room, but could not find her little brother. When she opened the nursery door, and put in her head, she rather wondered to see the bureau-drawers open, and several things lying scattered over the floor; but she did not think much about it, for there was no one there, and she must find Franky. As she went down-stairs again, she saw the back-door was standing open, and went to shut it. Here she met Franky coming in with very rosy cheeks, and his face all smiles, as if he were well pleased with himself.
"Oh, Franky!" said Maggie, "what made you go out in the cold with no hat and coat? Didn't you hear me calling you?"
"Yes," said Franky.
"Then why didn't you come?"
"Me too busy," said the little boy; and away he ran into the parlor, while Maggie went to shut the door. To her great surprise, she saw the piazza strewn with shoes and stockings,—her own, Bessie's, and Franky's, and even a pair or two of baby's little worsted socks. She came in, and followed Franky.