Dickey Downy Part 5

"'Oh, miss, because the names do suit them so well.'

"'They don't sound like any cats' names that ever I heard. I don't understand how they would suit.' Mary Ethel looked perplexed.

"'Why, miss, on account of the color of those cats, to be sure,' said Jeannette in surprise.

"'Pooh!' explained Johnny, 'that's easy. _Boule de neige_ is the French for s...o...b..ll, and _jaune_ means yellow, so _jaune jaquette_ means yellow jacket. I learned that in our French reader. I expect one of the cats is all white and the other is a yellow one. Is that it, Jeannette?'

"'Yes, sir,' said the French child, and she tipped him a polite little bow that was very pretty indeed.

"'_Boule de Neige_! what a funny name. I haven't named our white kitten yet. I believe I'll call it _Boule de Neige_ for a change,'

said Karl.

"Then Jett was brought in and Bessie pounced upon him for a ride, she chuckling and singing and looking from side to side with proud satisfaction, knowing she was being observed by everybody. The children almost screamed with delight at this performance.

"'Now, Bessie,' said Johnny, as the poor cat at last shook her off and slank away. 'You did that beautifully, and you deserve something to eat. I am going to let you have some bread and milk right here in the parlor, and the company can see how nicely you can feed yourself with a spoon.'

"'All right,' croaked the parrot. Sarah brought in a saucer in which was a little bread moistened with milk, and two spoons with it. A cloth was spread over one corner of the table and Bessie crawled up to the top of a chair which had been placed with its back close to the table. This brought the bird almost in line with the saucer. Johnny took his seat beside her and broke the bread into tiny pieces with his spoon, shoving the particles into the other spoon as fast as Bessie disposed of them. She gravely clasped her spoon with one claw and brought it to her mouth quite dextrously and ate the contents with evident relish, though it was plain that she enjoyed being admired for being able to do it really more than she enjoyed the bread. Once in a while her grasp was uncertain and the food was spilled on her breast feathers or fell to the floor. At this she scolded herself roundly and seemed quite ashamed.

"'One of these days, when I get time, I am going to train her to use a napkin when she eats,' said Johnny.

"'She'll be a perfectly accomplished lady then,' added Mary Ethel.

"By this time some of the stranger children had left the table and had come over to my cage to look at me.

"'The admiral's an awful purty feller,' said one.

"'Wouldn't his tail be sweet on a Sunday hat?' suggested another.

"'Oh, I choose his wings for my hat,' exclaimed a third.

"'I choose his head and breast for mine,' said the first one who had spoken. 'And Naomi chooses his whole body for her hat, I expect,' she added as Naomi joined them.

"'No,' said Naomi, 'we don't wear birds any more in our family. My sister and I used to have our hats trimmed with them, but we've quit.

I had a lovely one on my blue velvet hat last year. It was a beautiful hat," and she smiled at the recollection. 'But we've quit now,' she added gravely.

"'Why?' asked the other girls in a breath.

"'Oh, because my mother thinks it is wrong to wear them. Little boy, little boy, be careful or you'll let the bird out,' she called hastily.

"But the warning was too late. While the girls had been talking the small boy who was with them had been entertaining himself by slightly opening my cage door and letting it spring back to its fastening.

Suddenly he was seized with fright at discovering that it had stuck while half-way back, and refused to come together.

"Oh, dear!' he called. 'He's out.'

"'Mercy on us! Oh, dear!' screamed the girls as I made a dash through the opening, and flew to the top of a picture frame. 'Johnny, Johnny, your redbird's out,' they called.

"All was confusion in an instant. Boys and girls ran hither and thither, tumbling over each other, and over the chairs and stools, and all talking and screaming at once.

"'Bring a broom or a flagpole, Johnny,' called Philip. 'I'll shoo him down for you while you stand underneath and catch him.'

"'Shoo, shoo!' said Jeannette, catching her dress skirt with both hands and waving it back and forth rapidly. In a minute all the girls were waving their dress skirts at me and saying 'shoo.'

"'Oh, my pretty Admiral Dewey, my dear old admiral,' wailed Johnny, almost in tears.

"I didn't wait for the broom or the flagpole to help me from the picture frame. I balanced myself steadily and then I flew out of the open window and away into the world, without saying good-bye to anybody. I suppose they all crowded to the window to look after me as I disappeared, for the last thing I heard was Mrs. Morris' voice saying, 'Don't, Johnny; you'll fall out if you lean over so far. Papa will get you another bird. Don't grieve so hard. Don't, Johnny.'"

"Did you ever see Johnny afterward?" we asked the redbird.

"Yes, once I saw him cantering along slowly on Jock. He could not go very fast because he was holding a great bunch of red and pink roses in one hand. His cheeks were as pink as the flowers and his yellow hair curled up under the edge of his cap the same as it used to. I knew him in a minute. A great many carriages were on the street trimmed in flags and flowers. Little flags were fastened to the horses' harness.

Jock had one on each side of his head, which made him look very pretty.

Children were running about carrying wreaths. On a corner of the street where a band was playing some men were holding banners. I heard some one say it was Decoration Day, and that everybody strewed flowers on the graves in the big cemetery that day. I thought it was a very beautiful custom. Through all the buzz and confusion I kept an eye on Johnny. He didn't seem to be riding anywhere in particular, but was just looking around for the fun of the thing. Presently he drew up to the sidewalk where a little ragged boy was leaning up against a tree.

He had a wistful look, as if he would like to be taking part.

"'h.e.l.lo!' said Johnny, as he reined Jock in. 'Aren't you going to help to decorate?'

"'Naw--ain't got any posies, I tell you.' The boy said this in a sullen tone.

"'Here, take these. I brought you a big bunch so you could divide 'em with some of your friends. There's enough for all of you boys to have a few flowers to take to the cemetery.' Johnny extended the roses with a smile as he spoke.

"The boy grabbed them eagerly. 'My! You're a jolly one, I'll say that for you,' he said heartily by way of thanks, then he ran off with a whoop.

"I saw from this action that Johnny was the same generous, kind-hearted boy he used to be, and I felt proud to have had the honor of his acquaintance."

CHAPTER VII

A WINTER IN THE SOUTH

I was wrong about the Phoebe bird; Two songs it has, and both of them I've heard; I did not know those strains of joy and sorrow Came from one throat.

As the season advanced our May songs became less melodious until finally our music was merely a metallic but pleasant, "c.h.i.n.k, c.h.i.n.k,"

and we knew we would soon be putting on our new fall attire, as toward the close of the summer our family exchange their pretty black-and-white suits, so much admired, for a becoming yellowish-brown one. The different flocks were also now arranging for their regular winter trip to the sunny Southland, where their winters were spent.

I was very glad to know that we bobolinks were to travel only in the daytime, as that would afford us younger ones a better opportunity to see the country. The return trip to the North is always made by night.

A great many people have wondered why we do this, and those who are interested in our habits have tried to find out; but it is a secret the birds have never yet divulged, and probably never will.

The blue jays were going to remain behind, for the winters which we dreaded so much had no terrors for them. Sometimes when we were preening our feathers under the radiant skies near the Southern gulf, I thought of our old neighbors the jays, and fancied them in their bleak Northern home flitting about in the tops of the leafless trees, swayed by the icy winds from the upper lakes, and with perhaps but little to eat. I would not have exchanged places with them for the world. But my older comrades a.s.sured me the jays were not in need of my sympathy or pity. They liked the invigorating cold and chattered merrily in the desolate boughs and enjoyed many a nice meal from under the melting snow. The crimson dogwood berries, standing out like rosettes of coral, at which they liked to peck, also furnished them an aesthetic and sumptuous feast. Much more to be dreaded than the winter's cold was the cruel sportsman, said my comrades.

The day of our departure came. The concourse of birds setting out on their annual journeys was immense, and oh, what joy it was to soar aloft on buoyant pinion high up in the blue sky, over housetops and tops of trees, skimming along above rus.h.i.+ng waters or tranquil streams in quiet meadows. Mere existence was a keen delight. The sense of freedom, of lightness, of airiness, was gloriously exhilarating, a delicious sensation known only to the feathered tribes of all G.o.d's creation.

Our trip took us across some densely wooded mountains, where we rested for a time. A thick undergrowth of young saplings prevented any roads, and only occasional narrow footpaths showed that people sometimes pa.s.sed that way.

The mountain was grand in its loneliness; but doubtless was a desolate spot to the settlers, whose cabins were scattered at long distances from each other in the depths of the wood. I could imagine how cut off from the whole world the women and children in these cabins would feel, for it is natural for human beings to love society. The perpetual stillness must have been hard to bear when months sometimes pa.s.sed away, especially in the winter season, without their getting a glimpse of other human faces.

The mountains were full of wildcats too, which made their situation worse, as these fierce animals were frequently known to attack men as savagely as wolves do. One day while we were there two travelers camped under the tree where our family was roosting. They had evidently had a hard time making their way through the tangled undergrowth, for as one of the men flung himself down on the ground and stretched himself out at full length, he exclaimed peevishly: