The Bird in the Box

by Mary M. Mears

"Well, by paying cash for it to the church committee who put it up at auction," he said in a low voice, "I got it for eight hundred dollars."

At these words Annie crossed to the further side of the room and dropping into a chair, leaned her forehead against the wall.

Alexander looked at her with miserable eyes. Her action was a thousand times more disquieting than the volley of reproaches he had expected.

"They've come now, I think," he said after a pause. "They're going to hoist part of it up from the outside, and I hear them on the roof. Don't feel that way about it," he implored. "The scheme really is a good one, Annie, and I'll make a success of it, I promise you. I'll get the eight hundred dollars back and any amount besides."

But Annie continued motionless and he approached her chair. "I suppose it does seem like a lot for us to put into it," he continued with unwonted tenderness, "but it was a tempting bargain and as I couldn't develop my scheme without it— See here," he interrupted himself, "haven't you told me often enough that I ought to invent something that would prove to be a success; that I ought to do it to justify the Company's belief in me, and especially Mrs. Hart's belief?"

Then Annie turned on him. She even rose from her chair, the back of which she grasped with a shaking hand. "And it's to justify her belief in you, is it? that you spent all that we'd managed to save? Very thoughtful, I am sure. Her interest indeed! I wish you'd never seen her. I hate her, I do, I hate her!"

"Annie!" he exclaimed, for her little visage was twisted out of all semblance to itself.

"I do, I hate her!" she repeated. "As for buying that organ because you needed it, don't you suppose I know you've always hung around organ lofts and even followed hurdy-gurdies on the street? You bought the organ because you wanted it. Alexander, you—you leave me!" she finished hysterically.

Abashed, Emil stared at her; then relieved at this outburst, which was what he had looked for, he went to superintend the installing of his luckless possession. Since concluding the purchase of the organ the wisdom of the step had appeared dubious to his unpractical mind. Now, had it been possible for him to transfer the burden of ownership, he would gladly have transferred it. But the organ, to another, would have been an undesirable acquisition. It was wheezy of tone and sadly out of order, but this very condition was what had recommended it to him, and he looked forward with exultant joy to restoring it to a sense of perfection.

As no retreat was possible, between ruefulness and pride he lifted the blue and gold pipes from the long coffin-shaped box in which they had been packed. Other parts of the organ, being less liable to damage, were hoisted through the window.