“NANCY _didn’t_ steal my necklace, I _know_ her didn’t,” said Posy.
“Of course she didn’t,” said Tom; “it must have dropped off while we
were playing tiger.”
“Then why isn’t it there?” asked Hannah triumphantly; “it couldn’t have
run away by itself, I suppose.”
“Why do you accuse Nancy of taking it, Hannah?” asked Mrs. Winton.
“Because it isn’t the first thing that has disappeared since she came
here. My silver thimble is missing too. I had it yesterday when I was
sitting in the porch sewing.”
“But it is very wrong to accuse anybody unless you have proof of his
guilt,” said Mrs. Winton.
“Oh, do _please_ believe me, ma’am!” said Nancy, with the tears running
down her cheeks and a most distressed look in her face. “How could I be
so mean as to steal from people who have been so kind to me,--and from
dear little Posy too! Oh, do _please_ believe me!”
“I _will_ believe you, Nancy,” said Mrs. Winton kindly. “Now stop
crying, and remember that we will be your friends as long as you are a
good little girl. Run out to play, children, and perhaps you will find
the necklace.”
So Nancy dried her tears and was tenderly conducted out of doors by Tom
and Posy on either side; and they proved such good comforters that in a
short time she was laughing heartily.
“Now, Hannah,” said Mrs. Winton, when the children were gone, “I want
you to give up the thought that Nancy is a thief. She is a poor,
neglected child, and I should think that all your sympathies would go
out towards her.”
“I don’t believe in her honesty,” replied Hannah, unmoved. “I made up
my mind she was a thief the first time I sot eyes on her.”
“First impressions are not to be trusted,” said Mrs. Winton. “I
shall believe the child honest until I have reason to doubt her, and
certainly there has been nothing to prove her guilt yet.”
Hannah didn’t dare say more, but she secretly resolved to watch the
child closely.
The barn-cat, sitting on the window-sill, had heard the whole
conversation, and so had the little gray kitten; and the barn-cat
reported it faithfully to Mrs. Polly, who was greatly troubled by it.
“I’ll think it over and see if I can find any way to prove Nancy’s
innocence,” she said. “‘Give a dog a bad name and it will stick to
him,’ is a very true saying, and we must clear this poor child’s
reputation, or by-and-by others besides Hannah will begin to suspect
her. Yes, I’ll think the matter over carefully and see what can be
done. The sparrow moves his family over here to-day, and I am very glad
of it. I am in hopes he will turn over a new leaf and stay at home more
in the future.”
“Seeing is believing,” said the barn-cat dryly; “I haven’t much hope of
him myself.”
It was true that the sparrow was about to move. Mrs. Polly’s sharp
eyes had discovered a deserted swallow’s nest just under the roof of
the piazza, in a position where she could watch what went on; and
she proposed that he should put it in order for his family. The plan
pleased the sparrow, and he at once set to work to build. He brought
bits of straw and twine and hair, in fact anything he could find, and
put it inside the swallow’s nest. He was a careless fellow, and didn’t
spend any more time than was necessary over the building; but when it
was finished it was quite a nice little house,--a great improvement,
certainly, on the house in the elm-tree that his family now occupied.
The next day the sparrow appeared, escorting his bright-eyed wife and
her three little ones, now fine strong young birds; and they seemed
much pleased with their new quarters.
“That bright-eyed Mrs. Sparrow is a nice little thing,” said Mrs. Polly
to herself, “much too nice to be neglected by that scamp of a husband
of hers. I’ll keep a sharp lookout, and set matters straight if he goes
on in the old way.”
The sparrow was very attentive to his family the first day, and brought
the finest worms and insects he could find for them to eat, and busied
himself for their comfort in many ways, and the bright-eyed sparrow
looked very happy; but when twilight came on the sparrow became a
little restless and nervous, as if he had something on his mind. Mrs.
Polly’s shrewd eyes noticed all this, and she said to herself,--
“It’s just as I thought; but I _did_ think he’d have sense enough to
stay at home the first night. It’s much worse than I thought.”
“Good-night, my dear,” said the sparrow, coming up to his bright-eyed
wife and giving her a hasty kiss; “I’ll be in as early as I can.”
“You don’t mean to say you’re going to leave me the very first night
after we’ve been separated so long, and in a strange place too?” said
the bright-eyed sparrow indignantly.
“Only for a short time, my dear. It’s an engagement I made some time
ago. Very sorry, upon my honor; but I must keep my word!”
“How _can_ you treat me so?” said the bright-eyed sparrow. “You ought
to be ashamed of yourself. I’ll go back to-morrow, and never live with
you any more!”
The sparrow considered a moment. He _was_ a good-natured fellow in
spite of his roving propensities. He looked at the bright-eyed sparrow;
she was crying, and he couldn’t leave her feeling so unhappy. He went
up to her and said in a very tender tone,--
“See here, my dear! don’t you know that you’re going to work the wrong
way? I am the easiest fellow to manage you ever saw if you know how to
take me.”
“I wish I knew the way to take you,” answered the bright-eyed sparrow;
“I’d take it fast enough. _I_ manage _you_, indeed!” and she gave a
scornful little laugh.
“Did you ever hear that you could catch more flies with molasses than
with vinegar?” said the sparrow. “Well, my dear, I am willing to be
caught with molasses, but clip my pinions if you’ll catch _me_ with
vinegar! Come, my dear,” he said very gently and putting his little
head close to hers, “if you want me to stay at home tell me that you
care a little for me, and make me feel good, instead of telling me what
a worthless fellow I am.”
“Will you really and truly stay?” said the bright-eyed sparrow, smiling
through her tears.
“Really and truly,” answered the sparrow tenderly.
“Then I’ll think you are the dearest and best husband in the whole
world,” answered the bright-eyed sparrow; and she reached up her little
beak and gave him a hearty kiss.
“That’s as it should be,” said Mrs. Polly to herself, with her nod of
satisfaction, “but it won’t last long. He’ll be trying it over again
soon, and they’ll not always make up so easy. I _do_ wish he had firmer
principles!”
Mrs. Polly was right. It _was_ not very long before there was trouble
again in the sparrow’s household. One afternoon the bright-eyed sparrow
looked very anxious. She flew backward and forward, and perched on the
top of the tallest trees and looked about in every direction, and then
she flew home again and peered out of her little house with a very
distressed expression.
“I know what it all means,” said Mrs. Polly; “that scamp of a husband
of hers is off again. I must give him a talking to. He ought to set a
better example to his young family.”
“Good-evening, my dear,” she called to the bright-eyed sparrow, who was
just then looking out of her house; “hasn’t your husband come home
yet? He ought to be in by this time.”
“Oh! he’ll come soon, I dare say,” answered the bright-eyed sparrow
cheerfully; “he’s probably been detained by business.”
“Don’t feel anxious, my dear,” said Mrs. Polly; “nothing will happen to
him.”
“Oh, I’m not at all anxious,” said the bright-eyed sparrow, with a
great attempt at cheerfulness; but her voice was not as hopeful as her
words, and it had a sad tone that quite touched Mrs. Polly.
“He’s been away all day long,” whispered the canary to Mrs. Polly; “I
saw him go off early this morning, and if she sees him before to-morrow
morning it’s more than I think she will.”
“I declare it is too bad, too bad!” said Mrs. Polly, shaking her head
gravely.
The canary was right. Just before daybreak the next morning they heard
the sparrow come home; and although the dining-room window was closed,
they knew from the sounds that reached them that the sparrows had a
quarrel. Mrs. Polly waited until the sparrow was awake,--for he slept
late after his dissipation, and it was afternoon before he was fully
awake,--and then she called to them that she had something to say to
them.
Both of the birds flew down and seated themselves on the
flowering-currant bush before the dining-room window, where Mrs. Polly
could converse easily with them.
[Illustration: “Why do you accuse Nancy of taking it?”--_Page 204._]