"There's nobody in this world so bad," said Susie, sagely, "but that you can find something good to say about them." At which kindly speech Aunt Ruth smiled approval.
"I think," she said, "this will be a good time to tell you a story about an English sparrow and a canary-bird I will call it
TUFTY AND THE SPARROW.
"One morning in April a young canary-bird whose name was Tufty escaped through an open window carelessly left open while he was out of his cage, and suddenly found himself, for the first time in his life, in the open air. He alighted first on an apple-tree in the yard, and then made a grand flight half-way to the top of the elm-tree.
"The sun was bright and the air so still that the light snow which had fallen in the night yet clung to the branches and twigs of the tree, and Tufty examined it with interest, thinking it pretty but rather cold as he poked it about with his bill, and tucked first one little foot, and then the other, under him to keep it warm. Presently he heard an odd little noise below him, and, looking down, saw on the trunk of the tree a bird about his own size, with wings and back of a steel-gray color, a white breast with a dash of dull red on it, and a long bill, with which he was making the noise Tufty had heard by tapping on the tree.
"'Good-morning!' said Tufty, who was of a friendly and social disposition, and was beginning to feel the need of company.
"'Morning!' said the woodpecker, very crisp and shorthand not so much as looking up to see who had spoken to him.
"If you had heard this talk you would have said Tufty called out: 'Peep! peep!' and the woodpecker—but that's because you don't understand bird-language.
"'What are you doing down there?' said Tufty, continuing the conversation.
"'Getting my breakfast,' said the woodpecker.