“No, not to-day,” said our Mary. “To-morrow.”
Their young faces fell, and they went on taking their soup.
“Canaries are very gentle, timid creatures,” said Mrs. Martin. “You know, it is possible to kill them, without in the least intending to do so. This one we have down here to-day seems an exception. He gets frightened, but soon overcomes it. I think he is going to be an explorer.”
“It is his unpleasant life in the bird-room that makes him wish to come out,” said our Mary. “His little brother teases him most shamefully.”
“Just the way Sammy-Sam teases me,” said Lucy poutingly.
“I don’t tease you,” said Sammy. “You are a cry-baby.”
“I’m not a cry-baby,” she said.
Mrs. Martin interposed in her cheerful way. “Would you rather take your lunch, my darlings, or go out in the hall and continue your discussion?”
“Lunch first,” said the boy promptly, “but I’ll argue the head off Lucy afterward.”
“Take an arm or a leg,” said his aunt. “The head is such an important member to lose.”