SONNY BOY GOES IN SEARCH OF HIS WHITE MICE
“My dear Sonny Boy!” Aunt Kate leaned out of her carriage, ready to take him, big cage and all, into her arms.
“Cock-a-doodle-doo! Remember the Maine! Dewey! Sampson! Hobson!” screamed the parrot again. And the crowd following Sonny Boy and the coachman cheered and cheered.
Sonny Boy was afraid they would tear the cage from his arms. And they might have, had not the coachman used his fists to clear the way.
“Get us out of this, Jarvis!” said Aunt Kate.
Jarvis made the horses plunge forward, but Sonny Boy could hear the shouts following them along the street.
“She—she’s a remarkable parrot,” said Sonny Boy faintly.
“I should think so!” said Aunt Kate.
“I didn’t exactly bring the parrot. She belongs to another fel—another girl,” explained Sonny Boy, a little confused.
“I’m so glad!” said Aunt Kate heartily.