“Oh, Jem,” said his wife.
“It’s a beautiful talker,” said Gannett hastily, “and it’s so clever that it picks up everything it hears, but it’ll soon forget it.”
“It looks as though it knows what you are saying,” said his wife. “Just look at it, the artful thing.”
The opportunity was too good to be missed, and in a few straightforward lies the engineer acquainted Mrs. Gannett of the miraculous powers with which he had chosen to endow it.
“But you don’t believe it?” said his wife, staring at him open-mouthed.
“I do,” said the engineer firmly.
“But how can it know what I’m doing when I’m away?” persisted Mrs. Gannett.
“Ah, that’s its secret,” said the engineer; “a good many people would like to know that, but nobody has found out yet. It’s a magic bird, and when you’ve said that you’ve said all there is to say about it.”
Mrs. Gannett, wrinkling her forehead, eyed the marvellous bird curiously.
“You’ll find it’s quite true,” said Gannett; “when I come back that bird’ll be able to tell me how you’ve been and all about you. Everything you’ve done during my absence.”