“Lots of grown people make her mistake,” said Chummy. “They speak about seeing wild canaries, when we haven’t such a thing in Canada. They mean yellow summer warblers or goldfinches. Well, I’m going down for the cake.”
The boy stood very still and watched him eat it, so I knew he was a good child.
Presently his little sister came hurrying out of the house with a battered old cage in one hand and something clasped tightly in the other.
“Cook gave me something that she said would be sure to catch the little fellow,” she called out to her brother, “if I can only get near enough to put it on his tail.”
“What is it?” asked the little boy.
“Nice fine white salt. She says the least pinch on his tail will make him as tame as a cat. Stand back, Freddie, till I put the cage on the low branch of this tree. I have some crumbs in it.”
It was amusing to see the two little creatures stand away back in the drive waiting for me to go in the cage.
Chummy was nearly killing himself laughing. “Naughty cook to spring that old joke on these innocents!”
“Would you dare me to go in, and let them put salt on my tail?” I asked.
Chummy was very much taken aback. “You never would, would you?”