“You do believe, now, that Nancy isn’t a thief, don’t you, Hannah?” said Posy earnestly.
“Yes,” said Hannah slowly, for it cost her a great effort to acknowledge she had made a mistake; “I see I was mistaken, and I am sorry. I can’t say no more than that, as I know.”
“Hannah,” said Posy, with her sweetest smile, “I don’t think you are a mean girl, and I will help you cook whenever you want me to.”
“Then I’m all right,” answered Hannah cheerfully.
It would be hard to tell how happy Nancy was at the favorable turn affairs had taken; and if such a thing were possible, the animals, who had been the means of bringing it to pass, were even happier than she was. Mrs. Polly was so excited that for several days she talked the family almost to death, and the canary sang till it seemed as if his little throat would burst.
The sparrow settled down into quite a model husband and father, and very seldom relapsed into his old habits. He and the little bright-eyed sparrow continued to be very fond of each other, and brought up many broods of young sparrows,—some of them lively young fellows like their father and as fond of keeping late hours as he used to be, and others as bright-eyed and domestic as the bright-eyed sparrow herself.
The barn-cat and the house-cat continued to disagree in their ideas of education, but their kittens associated together with great amiability and did not share the jealousies of their mothers.
Little Nancy never left the kind friends who had befriended her, and was so devoted to Posy and made her so happy that a new nurse never appeared, and the children became more attached to her every day, if such a thing were possible.
The Sparrow’s House.