Poor Bimbo retreated to the very edge of the bough, screaming "Jett, Jett! oh, oh, Jett!" This offended her so much that Jack had to pull her down by her tail, to save Bimbo's life.
She was of course very much disgusted at such unusual treatment, and went off in the sulks. After a time peace was restored, and Bimbo was happy, for they were all very kind and sympathizing, and Hope smoothed his feathers where Jett had attacked him, and Jack told him he was forgiven provided he never swore again.
Aunt Martha told the children a nice, interesting story, while Jack held Bimbo on his arm, and Hope cuddled Joanna in her lap.
This home picture was interrupted by Bridget, the cook. She came, full of wrath, to enter her complaint of Jett, who followed in the distance as bold as a lion. Bridget said she put some squash pies she had made to cool for dinner, and she found Jett sitting in the middle of one while she was eating from the other, her paws and tail going as fast as her tongue.
Jack shrieked with laughter when he saw her glossy black fur covered with squash. Her nose and whiskers were dotted with it, and even her ears had little yellow decorations.
As soon as Aunt Martha could command her voice, she consoled Bridget by telling her she would make a dessert in place of the pies. Then she told Jett she had better go and get into the waste barrel. And a sight she was—a picture in yellow and black.
She went away, ashamed,—not, however, without casting a look of fury at Bimbo, who was whispering with a smothered chuckle, "Oh, she's a dear! she's a dear! Oh, oh, Jett! I shall die!"
Jett preferred a crooked path. Stealing was her delight, for boldly, in the face of all, she would bring home a chicken she had stolen. No one molested her, for Aunt Martha paid for the chicken, and as Hope said, perhaps Jett thought it was like having a bill at a store. She had a running account at the neighbor's hen-coops, knowing the bill would be paid.
The children called her a "grave robber." For once one of the neighbors lost a little bird. Their little boy was very fond of it, and was allowed to bury it in the garden. He folded it up in his little pocket-handkerchief, and put it into the hole he had dug, and covered the earth over it. He put up a little wooden paper-knife over the grave, making a nice tombstone, and the design was very appropriate. The top of the knife was carved with a bush, and a bird was sitting on the branches. The point of the knife was down deep in the earth, and he thought everything secure.
Now Jett knew everything going on in the neighborhood. The bird's empty cage had been cleaned, and was standing on a bench outside the kitchen door. Jett had interviewed the cage and tried to get in, but finding the door too small, she had seated herself to think it out, wondering in her mind where the bird had gone. When she heard footsteps, she mounted to her post of observation on the fence; and when she saw the boy bring out the bird and bury it, she was perplexed.