Polly thanked her, and ran away to a quiet corner of the back room, where I saw her slowly reading the clipping as she rocked herself in her pretty birch chair.

When she had read it through, she sat for some time looking very thoughtful.

At last she rose and carried the paper back to Miss Katharine, halting a moment as she passed my cage, to whisper softly: "Dickey Downy, you dear little fellow, I'm going upstairs right this very minute to take the feathers off my best Sunday hat and I'm never, never going to wear birds any more.".