“Certainly—I do hate them. I wish Black Thomas, the boarding-house cat, would drop
dead this minute, but, Dicky, there’s no use in denying that a cat is the best rat-trap in the world. Down town where my Jennie’s parents live in the roof of the old station, they had lots of rats, and the station hands started to poison them. A little darling boy traveling with his mother fished a piece of rat biscuit out of a hole in the corner when his mother’s back was turned, ate it, and nearly died. The station master was in a fury, and made the men gather up all the rat biscuit which kills the animals in a very cruel way, and go out and buy some nice, wise cats. Jennie says another bad thing happened which the station master didn’t know. A lady traveling with a little pet dog, one of those Mexican Chihuahua dogs, so small that they stand on your hand, had it run from her and get into a hole in the flooring. She was days looking for it, and one of the men found it in a cruel rat-trap, one that catches the poor beast by the paw. The little dog was dead. Its tiny velvet foot was all broken, and the lady cried herself ill.”
“Chummy,” I said, “this is all very sad. I’m going to change the subject with your permission,
and tell you that I’m glad I met you and I like to hear you talk.”
“I like you too,” he said with feeling, “and I think we shall become great cronies.”
“You express yourself so nicely,” I said, “not at all in a common way.”
He drew his little self up proudly. “We Varsity sparrows are supposed to be the brainiest in the city. We listen to the students’ talk and especially to the professors and learn to express ourselves properly. Hardly a sparrow in this neighborhood uses slang, but you just ought to hear the birds down in St. John’s ward. Their vulgar expressions are most reprehensible, and they all talk with their beaks shut tight. They sound like human beings who talk through their noses. You’ll see some of them some day. They come up here, but we drive them away pretty quickly.”
“That reminds me,” I said, “am I safe to fly in and out of the house here, and to go about this street a bit? I have told you that I am accustomed to much liberty, and I should like to learn something about this big, wonderful out-of-doors.”
“I’ll answer for the sparrows,” he said, “I’ll pass the word round that no one is to molest you, and I’ll tell Slow-Boy the pigeon to warn all his set. The crows won’t bother you, for they rarely come here, and when they do, it is very early in the morning before a bird of your luxurious habits would be up.”
“If one should challenge me, what should I say?” I asked anxiously. “I suppose you have a password.”