Considering that the Professor had not kissed any one for twenty years at least, he did it very well, and, when Bertie was gone, stood looking down at the corpulent old dictionary, as if he still saw a bright-eyed little figure sitting on it, and considered that a great improvement upon the dust that usually lay there.
TWITTER THE SECOND.
Mamma was right; for Cocky, finding himself well treated at his first visit, called again, and being feasted on sugar, fruit, and cake, and allowed to go when he liked, was entirely won. From that time he was the friend of the family, and called as regularly as the postman. He knew his own little door, and if it was shut he tapped with his bill till some one opened it, when he came bustling in, chirping a gay "How are you?" and waggling his ragged tail in the most friendly manner. Weather made no difference to him; in fact rainy days were his favorite times for calling. His little coat was waterproof, he needed no umbrella, and often came hopping in, with snow-flakes on his back, as jolly as you please.
I don't know what Bertie would have done without this sociable little neighbor, for it was a stormy winter and he could not go out much; other children were at school; even mamma's inventive powers gave out sometimes, and toys grew tiresome. But Cocky never did, and such games as the two had together it would have done your heart good to see, for the boy was so gentle that the bird soon grew very tame and learned to love and trust with the sweetest confidence. A jollier sparrow never hopped; and after a good lunch with Bertie, both drinking out of one mug, both pecking at the same apple, and sharing the same cake, Cocky was ready for play. He would hide somewhere and Bertie would hunt for him, guided now and then by a faint "Tweet" till the little gray bunch was found in some sly nook and came bouncing out with a whisk and a chirp.
When Bertie sat at lessons, Cocky would roost on his shoulder, hop over the open page with his head on one side as if reading it, peer into the inkstand inquisitively, or settle himself among the flowers that stood in the middle of the table, like a little teacher ready to hear the lessons when they were learned.
And sometimes when Bertie lay asleep, tired with books or play, Cocky would circle round him with soft flight, and perch on his pillow, waiting silently till his playmate woke, "like an angel guarding the dear in his sleep," as old nurse said, watching the pretty sight.
Professor Parpatharges Patterson was right also; for he apparently did try to understand "bird-talk," and did succeed; for a few days after Bertie's call a letter came flying in at the open pane just at twilight, very much as if Cocky had brought it himself. It was written on robin's-egg-colored paper, and bore the title, "Life and Adventures of Cocky Twitters, Esq."
Mamma began to laugh as she glanced over it, and Bertie screamed with delight when a funny sketch appeared of an egg with a very small but brisk little bird hopping out of it without a feather on him. It was very funny, and when mamma read Cocky's thoughts and feelings on first beholding the world, it was so droll, and Bertie was so tickled, that he rolled on the floor and kicked up his heels.
Mr. P. must have tried very hard to "reccomember" the accomplishments and gayety of his youth, for the sketch was so good and the first chapter of this bird-book so merry that mamma put it in a little portfolio and showed it to all her friends, for no one ever dreamed that the studious old Professor had it in him to do such a clever thing.
Bertie wanted to rush right in and thank him that very night, but mamma said he had better wait till morning and then play a little joke in return for the Professor's. So next day, when Mr. P. pulled up the curtain of his study window, there hung a lovely posy of flowers and a little card with "Bertie Norton's compliments and thanks" on it.