“Oh! because they didn’t have any, and then—besides, oh, she had plenty of seeds in her cage. Well, so”—
“Did she like seeds?” asked Phronsie, pulling Polly’s arm gently to make her pay attention.
“Yes, I guess so,” said Polly absently. “Well, so you see”—
“Please let somebody give her a cracker, Polly,” said Phronsie in a grieved little voice that made Polly stop at once.
“Oh! I will, Pet,” cried Polly at sight of her face. “Yes indeed, that old green parrot shall have a cracker. The little thin man in the corner of the stage-coach felt in his pocket, and he found one, and he gave it to her.”
“I think he was nice,” said Phronsie, in great relief.
“Well, let me see—where was I?” said Polly, wrinkling her brows. “Oh! well, in the other side of the stage-coach, sitting with their backs to the horses”—
“Two of them were black and two were white,” said Joel.
“Yes;” Polly hurried on to get him off from the horses; “well, there were three boys crowded into the seat; and they had a basket they were carrying to their grandmother, and there was a chicken-pie in it.”