FullReads

No sooner did the thought occur to her than the Bird was ready with a story. He fluttered down to the road, hunted a small brush from under his left wing and scrubbed carefully at the feathers covering his crop. “Now I can make a clean breast of it,” he announced.

“Oh, you’re going to tell us how you got the lump?” asked Gwendolyn, eagerly.

The feathers over his crop were spotless. He nodded—and tucked away the scrubbing brush. “Once upon a time,” he began—

She dimpled with pleasure. “I like stories that start that way!” she interrupted.

“Once upon a time,” he repeated, “I was just an ordinary sparrow, hopping about under the kitchen-window of a residence, busily picking up crumbs. While I was thus employed, the cook in the kitchen happened to spill some salt on the floor. Being a superstitious creature she promptly threw a lump of it over her shoulder. Well, the kitchen window was open, and the salt went through it and lit on my tail,” (Here he pointed his beak to where the crystal had been). “And no sooner did it get firmly settled on my feathers—”

“The first person that came along could catch you!” cried Gwendolyn, “Jane told me that.”

“Jane?” said the Bird.

“The fat two-faced woman that was my nurse.”

The Bird ruffled his plumage. “Well, of course she knew the facts,” he admitted “You see, she was the cook.”

“Oh!”

“As long as that lump was on my tail,” resumed the Bird, “anybody could catch me, and send me anywhere. And nobody ever seemed to want to take the horrid load off—with salt so cheap.”

“Did you do errands for my fath-er?”

Her father answered. “Messages and messages and messages,” he murmured wearily. (There was a rustle, as of paper.) “Mostly financial,” He sighed.

“Sometimes my work has eased up a trifle,” went on the Bird, more cheerily; “that’s when They hired Jack Robinson, because he’s so quick.”

“Oh, yes, you worked for They,” said Gwendolyn. “Please, who are They? And what do They look like? And how many are there of ’em?”

Ahead was a bend in the road. He pointed it out with his bill. “You know,” said he, “it’s just as good to turn a corner as a stone. For there They are now!” He gave an important bounce.

She rounded the bend on tiptoe. But when she caught sight of They, it seemed as if she had seen them many times before. They were two in number, and wore top hats, and plum-covered coats with black piping. They were standing in the middle of the road, facing each other. About their feet fluttered dingy feathers. And between them was a half-plucked crow, which They were picking.

Once she had wanted to thank They for the pocket in the new dress. Now she felt as if it would be ridiculous to mention patch-pockets to such stately personages. So, leaving her father, she advanced modestly and curtsied.

“How do you do, They,” she began. “I’m glad to meet you.”

They stared at her without replying. They were alike in face as well as in dress; even in their haughty expression of countenance.

“I’ve heard about you so often,” went on Gwendolyn. “I feel I almost know you. And I’ve heard lots of things that you’ve said. Aren’t you always saying things?”

“Saying things,” They repeated. (She was astonished to find that They spoke in chorus!) “Well, it’s often So-and-So that does the talking, but we get the blame.” Now They glared.

Gwendolyn, realizing that she had been unfortunate in the choice of a subject, hastened to reassure them. “Oh, I don’t want to blame you,” she protested, “for things you don’t do.”

At that They smiled. “I blame him, and he blames me,” They answered. “In that way we shift the responsibility.” (At which Gwendolyn nodded understandingly.) “And since we always hunt as a couple” (here They pulled fiercely at the feathers of the captured bird between them) “nobody ever knows who really is to blame.”

They cast aside the crow, then, and led the way along the road, walking briskly. Behind them walked the Policeman, one hand to his cap.

“Say, please don’t put me off the Force,” he begged.

Grass and flowers grew along the center of the road. No sooner did the Policeman make his request than They moved across this tiny hedge and traveled one side of the road, giving the other side over to the Officer. Whereupon he strode abreast of They, swinging his night-stick thoughtfully.