"'Eheu fugaces, Postume, Postume,
Labuntur anni;'
tell that to your granny!" said Mrs. Tree's parrot, turning a bright yellow eye on her knowingly.
"Bless your heart, she wouldn't understand if I did. She never had your advantages, dear," said Miss Penny, admiringly. "Here, now you have had a nice nap, and I'll move you out into the sun, and give you a drop of Bird Bitters. Take it now, a Beauty Boy. Prudence, I wish't you could see him; he's taking it just as clever! I never did see the beat of this bird for knowingness."
"Malviny Weight was askin' me about them Bitters," said Miss Prudence's voice from the inner room. "She wanted to know if there was alcohol in 'em, and if you thought it was right to tempt dumb critters."
"She didn't! Well, if she ain't a case! What did you say to her, Prudence? Hush! hush to goodness! Here she is this minute. Good morning, Mis' Weight! You're quite a stranger. Real seasonable, ain't it, this mornin'?"
"'Tis so!" responded the newcomer, who entered, breathing heavily. "I feel the morning air, though, in my bronical tubes. I hadn't ought to go out before noon, but I wanted to speak to Prudence about turnin' my brown skirt. Is she in?"
"Yes'm, she's in. You can pass right through. The door's open."
"Crickey!" said Mrs. Tree's parrot, "What a figurehead!"
"Who's that?" demanded Mrs. Weight, angrily.
Miss Penny turned her back hastily, and began arranging toys on a shelf.