“Think, my darling, how much more comfortable you can make her than she has ever been before; and perhaps it is not so bad as you think,—she may not be wholly blind.”
So Mamma put down her sewing, and went with Posy to look at the little gray kitten, who all this time had been purring away contentedly in Tom’s lap.
“Oh no,” said Mamma, “she isn’t wholly blind, she can see out of one eye; and we will bathe her eyes with some warm water and a soft sponge, and she will feel as comfortable as possible.”
“I knew how it would be,” said the parrot to the canary, as the kitten was carried off to the kitchen to be fed.
“Kind people, every one of them,” answered the canary, hopping about for joy. “Hallo! what’s the barn-cat up to? Do look at her!”
The barn-cat was creeping cautiously along the yard, her body almost touching the ground and her eyes glowing with eagerness. Sometimes she stopped for an instant and swished her tail excitedly, then went on again. The canary and Mrs. Polly soon saw what it was that excited her so. A little sparrow sat on a stone a few rods off, pluming his feathers in a very unconcerned manner. The barn-cat stopped and wriggled her body for a final spring, when all at once Mrs. Polly screamed out, “Scat! scat!” in so loud a voice and so exactly like a human being that the barn-cat stopped in her spring and the sparrow flew up into a bush opposite the dining-room window.
Certainly the sparrow was a very rowdy-looking bird. His feathers were rumpled and many of them broken, and he had a very independent air that was a great contrast to the refined manner of the well-kept canary.
“Who are you, pray?” asked Mrs. Polly, eying the new-comer curiously.
“Can’t you see?” answered the sparrow in a hoarse voice.
“It’s very evident you’re a tramp,” said Mrs. Polly. “What do you want here?”