She seemed suddenly to recall a thought as she glanced at my cage, for she said, "I must not forget to ask Katharine if she can take the bird home with her next week and keep it while Polly is gone to the country.

I'll be sure to forget to feed it.
Anyway, I haven't time to bother with it." The day before Polly left for the country I heard her inquiring for the "Daily," which I remembered was the name they called the newspaper containing the account of the noble city ladies who had pledged themselves not to wear us any more.
"Tuesday's paper ?" her mother asked; she was busy at the time fastening a poor, little, mute swallow on a rich hat.

"Perhaps it was thrown behind the counter.

Did you want it for any special purpose ?" Polly replied that she wanted to read something in it.
"Well, it is probably torn up by this time," said her mother.

"If it isn't on the table in the back room, or on the shelf by the window, or behind the counter, I'm sure I don't know where it is." The young clerk who was arranging the goods on the counter had heard Polly's inquiry, and she now asked if it was the newspaper that told about the women who thought it wrong to wear birds.