“Humph! savin’ all your pity for hungry birds! Never a bit of it to give a starvin’ human creeter,” snarled a man’s voice that seemed to come from a clump of bushes a yard or two in Croly’s rear. Every head at once turned in that direction, but the speaker seemed invisible.
It was Grandma Elsie who replied: “There is abundance of food here, and I would have no one starve or suffer at all from hunger. Step up to the table and your wants shall be supplied.”
“There is no empty seat at your table, ma’am,” snarled the voice.
“True,” she returned, “but there are abundance of seats near at hand, and you can carry your food to one of them when you have received it, and there sit and eat at your leisure.”
“Why, where on earth is the fellow?” asked Croly of Harold, speaking in an undertone. “I cannot catch so much as a glimpse of him.”
“It really looks very mysterious,” returned Harold, with difficulty repressing a smile. “What had better be done about it, do you think?”
“Surely that is for your mother to say,” returned Croly; “but if I were in her place I should have the grounds thoroughly searched for that impudent fellow, who is probably a thieving tramp.”
“Hardly, I think,” said Harold, “for they are somewhat scarce hereabouts; at least, we seldom see one.”
“Ah? then you are fortunate in that respect.”
“But how odd that both bird and man should be invisible!” exclaimed Mary Keith. “I must own that I cannot understand it.”