THE sparrow flew away, holding the lump of sugar tightly in his claw.
“It’s a long time since I was at home,” he said to himself as he flew
along; “I don’t dare to think how long it is. The old lady’ll be pretty
hard to bring ’round, I suspect, but she’s a good little thing and will
make up before long. Let me see--the youngsters must be ’most ready to
fly by this time. ’Tis a shame, I declare, to neglect my family so.
Well, I guess I’ll take Mrs. Polly’s advice and settle down.”
He passed over a clear spring in the woods, and lit on the edge to
drink. As he stooped over to reach the fresh water he caught sight of
himself reflected in the smooth surface.
“Whew! I do look rather rowdy,” he said. “I think I’ll take a
dip,--there’s nothing that takes with the female sex like a little
attention to your personal appearance, and I flatter myself I’m not a
bad-looking fellow when I’m spruced up. So here goes!” and carefully
placing the lump of sugar on a stone, he ducked his head into the
fresh, clear water, and brought it out dripping.
Then he stepped in and splashed the water about with his wings, and
ducked his head till his feathers were heavy with water. He flew into
a bush and began pluming them carefully, and he certainly was _not_ a
bad-looking fellow when he had finished his toilet.
When he had smoothed out all his feathers he flew down to the edge of
the spring and looked in, and, judging from the little complacent nod
he gave and the dapper air with which he hopped to the stone where the
lump of sugar lay, he was evidently satisfied with the picture he saw
reflected.
“Now for home!” he said; and mounting into the air he circled a few
times over the spring, and then flew straight to his home, still
holding the lump of sugar securely in his little claw.
A small unpainted house stood back from the road. The whole place had a
dilapidated look,--the gate was off the hinges; most of the blinds were
gone, and those that were left were broken or hanging by one hinge; the
shingles were off the roof in many places; and panes of glass were gone
from many of the windows, the holes being filled up with bundles of
rags.
A shed that looked as if it were ready to tumble down at any moment
was built on to the back of the house; and a large elm, the only
pretty thing about the place, spread its drooping branches over the
moss-grown roof.
To this tree the sparrow made his way, and lighted on a branch before
a little bird-house which looked as much out of repair as the house
itself; for it seemed ready to fall apart at any moment, and the bits
of seaweed and straw and wool of which the nest was made, were hanging
out of the door in a most untidy manner. In fact, the whole structure
had an insecure appearance, as if a high wind might topple it over at
any moment.
A little bright-eyed sparrow stood in the doorway, and three small
sparrows from the nest inside opened their mouths wide and clamored
expectantly for something to eat as the sparrow lighted beside them.
“How do you do, my darling?” said the sparrow gayly, as he approached
his little bright-eyed wife for a kiss.
But instead of answering she turned her back towards him, and
looked straight before her with what she intended to be a very
severe expression; but the truth was, her natural expression was so
good-natured and pleasing that she didn’t succeed so well as she
thought she did.
“Hasn’t it one little kiss for its husband that’s been away so long?”
asked the sparrow, trying to get a view of the face she turned away
from him.
“No, it hasn’t,” answered the little wife shortly, without looking at
him.
“If you knew how I’ve longed to see you all this time!” said the
sparrow, with a sigh.
“Then why didn’t you come and see me?” said the bright-eyed sparrow,
with what she considered a very sarcastic laugh, but which didn’t
frighten her husband one bit. “I didn’t run away. I’ve been here all
this time, working hard to feed these three children. It’s mean of you
to treat me so!”
“So ’tis, so ’tis, my dear,” answered her husband soothingly.
“Then why in the world’s name didn’t you come?”
“Business, my dear, business,” answered the sparrow with a very
important air; “business before pleasure, you know.”
“A likely story! As if you ever did a day’s work in your life! All my
friends told me how ’twould be if I married you!”
“Then what made you do it, my love?” said the sparrow in a very sweet
voice, dropping a kiss on the back of the little head that was turned
away so persistently.
“Because I was a fool, I suppose,” answered the bright-eyed sparrow; “I
don’t know any other reason. There was that other one that wanted me to
have him,--well off and a hard-working fellow. I don’t know why in the
world I didn’t take him, instead of a vain, lazy, flirting fellow like
you!”
“I know, my dear, why you didn’t.”
“Why, I should like to know, sir?” she said, turning her bright eyes
towards him for an instant and then looking away again.
“Because, my darling, you knew that, in spite of his good qualities
that you respected you loved a good-for-nothing, lazy fellow,
good-looking enough,” said the sparrow with a conceited little air,
“but whose only virtue was that he cared more for one look from your
bright eyes than for all the rest of the world put together;” and he
lit beside her, and stretching out his neck gave her an affectionate
kiss.
“Don’t!” said his little wife with a pout; “you don’t mean it, you know
you don’t.”
“Don’t I, though?” answered her husband. “Come, my dear, it isn’t
becoming to you to be cross. Be the pretty, happy little thing you are,
and tell your mean old husband that you’re glad to see him home again.”
The bright-eyed sparrow didn’t _say_ she was glad, but she didn’t turn
from him as he sat close to her in the doorway of the little house, and
it was evident she rather liked it, or she would have moved away.
“You haven’t seen the children since they got their new feathers,” she
said. “You don’t know what a hard time I’ve had finding food for them
all this time, and they are _such_ big eaters! And the house leaks, and
sometimes it rocks so I expect every minute it will fall down. It was
very unkind of you to leave me so long!” and the bright eyes were full
of tears.
“I won’t again, my dear, ’pon my honor!” said the sparrow. “’Twas too
bad. Come, let’s make up, and I’ll show you what I’ve brought you.”
He was so good-natured, and looked so handsome and fresh in consequence
of his bath, that his poor little wife couldn’t resist him any longer,
and their little bills met in a kiss of peace.
“What do you think of that?” said the sparrow, holding out the lump of
sugar to her.
“What is it?”
“Taste and see,” he answered, holding it up to her mouth.
“Oh, how delicious!” she exclaimed, biting off a few grains.
“You see your husband does think of you when he’s away on business,”
said the sparrow tenderly.
“Let us have a bite!” called out the baby sparrows vociferously.
So the mother bird bit off a piece for each one, and then promised them
they should have the rest the next day.
“They don’t know their own father, the poor dears!” said the little
mother.
“It’s a shame,” answered the sparrow. “Hallo, young ones!” he said,
whistling for their entertainment, “when you’re able to fly, your
dad’ll take you out for an airing occasionally.”
“Where did you get that nice white stuff?” asked the little bright-eyed
sparrow.
Then the sparrow told all about Posy and Tom, and the parrot and the
canary, and the house-cat and the barn-cat, and the good luck of the
little gray kitten, and how they were trying to bring about a change of
luck for little Nancy, and how the ugly rats were plotting to prevent
it; and the little bright-eyed sparrow nestled affectionately against
him, and listened to every word that he uttered with the greatest
interest.
“How is Nancy getting on?” asked the sparrow as he ended his story.
“Poor child! I pity her with all my heart,” said the bright-eyed
sparrow. “She never gets anything to eat but she comes out and
sprinkles some of the crumbs under the tree for us, and then she throws
some around the door-step of the old shed for the mice.”
“I must have a look at her,” said the sparrow. “Where is she now? do
you know?”
“She came home about five minutes before you did,” said the little
bright-eyed sparrow; “and I’m afraid she hasn’t sold any matches
to-day, she looked so sad.”
Just then the shed-door opened, and a little girl appeared, and seating
herself under the elm-tree began to sob as if her heart would break.
“Is Posy as big as she is?” whispered the little bright-eyed sparrow,
“and does she look anything like her?”
“No, indeed,” answered her husband; “Posy is a very little girl, and
has beautiful yellow hair and red cheeks, and always dances about
because she is so happy. We _must_ do something for this poor child!”
The child sat with her face buried in her hands, sobbing; and the
sparrow noticed that her bare feet were cut in many places from walking
over the sharp stones. They were red and swollen too. He flew down and
perched on a bush in front of her, for the good-hearted fellow longed
to comfort her.
“Dear me!” said the little girl, “how my feet do ache!” and she took
one of them in her hands, and rocked herself backward and forward with
the pain.
The sparrow gave a cheerful twitter, and the child looked up.
“Why, I do believe it’s Billy come back!” she cried, almost smiling
through her tears. “Why, you’re a naughty bird to leave your wife and
babies so long!”
Billy twittered and chirped, and tried hard to tell her how glad he was
to see her.
“I’ve had a hard time, Billy, since you went away,” she said, “and it’s
a comfort to have you back again, for it always seemed to me as if you
understood what I told you, and I’ve nobody in the whole world to love
me, Billy;” and the tears streamed down her cheeks. “She’s awful cross
to me, Billy, and often beats me; and when I can’t sell my matches she
makes me go without anything to eat. A kind lady gave me a piece of
bread to-day, and I saved some of the crumbs for your little wife to
give her babies, and I’ll give some to you, too, because you’re the
only friend I have besides your wife, now that the little gray kitten
has gone;” and the little girl put a few crumbs on the ground in front
of the sparrow.
“If I were to eat one of those crumbs I believe it would choke me,” he
called up to his little wife, who was watching them as she softly sang
her babies to sleep.
“My feet are very sore, Billy,” went on the child; “for, you see, I
have to go very far to sell my matches, and I think I should feel
stronger if I had more to eat. I sometimes think that I can’t stand it
any longer;” and the poor child began to sob again.
The sparrow felt very sorry for her, and told her what her friends the
animals were going to do for her, and how happy she would be when she
found herself in a new home. “If they felt so sorry for the little
gray kitten, think how they’ll pity you, you poor ill-used child!” he
said. “And Posy and Tom will play with you, and you’ll have shoes and
stockings to wear, and plenty to eat, and a nice place to sleep in; so
don’t cry, little Nancy, for very good times are coming!”
This is what the sparrow said, but the child did not understand the
words.
“I believe you’re trying to comfort me, you dear thing,” she said,
“when you sing so cheerfully; and it makes me forget how hungry I am,
and my feet don’t hurt me so much.”
“The sun has gone down and it’s time to go to bed,” called out the
little bright-eyed sparrow after the child and the sparrow had talked
together in this manner for some time. “I always like to have the house
quiet by sundown.”
“Why, it’s only just the edge of the evening,” answered the sparrow; “I
guess I’ll call ’round on some of my old friends. I’ll be back in a few
minutes.”
“I know your tricks,” said his little wife; “you’ll come home by
daybreak, and then you’ll want to sleep till noon. ‘The early bird
catches the worm,’ my mother used to say; and true enough it is. It’s
too bad to have you go off so soon, when I was so glad to have you back
again! I’ve lots of things to tell you;” and the bright-eyed sparrow’s
eyes filled with tears of disappointment.
“Well, don’t cry, and I’ll stay at home,” said the sparrow, as he flew
up to the nest; and nestling close together they talked until their
voices grew sleepy, and then each little head was tucked under a wing,
and both were fast asleep.
Then the child arose, and limping went slowly into the house.
[Illustration: “Seating herself under the tree, began to sob as if her
heart would break.”--_Page_ 96.]