“You see your husband does think of you when he’s away on business,” said the sparrow tenderly.
“Let us have a bite!” called out the baby sparrows vociferously.
So the mother bird bit off a piece for each one, and then promised them they should have the rest the next day.
“They don’t know their own father, the poor dears!” said the little mother.
“It’s a shame,” answered the sparrow. “Hallo, young ones!” he said, whistling for their entertainment, “when you’re able to fly, your dad’ll take you out for an airing occasionally.”
“Where did you get that nice white stuff?” asked the little bright-eyed sparrow.
Then the sparrow told all about Posy and Tom, and the parrot and the canary, and the house-cat and the barn-cat, and the good luck of the little gray kitten, and how they were trying to bring about a change of luck for little Nancy, and how the ugly rats were plotting to prevent it; and the little bright-eyed sparrow nestled affectionately against him, and listened to every word that he uttered with the greatest interest.
“How is Nancy getting on?” asked the sparrow as he ended his story.
“Poor child! I pity her with all my heart,” said the bright-eyed sparrow. “She never gets anything to eat but she comes out and sprinkles some of the crumbs under the tree for us, and then she throws some around the door-step of the old shed for the mice.”
“I must have a look at her,” said the sparrow. “Where is she now? do you know?”