St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1881-03-11

/ SAID. Iney We Deen cnucklng tnelr
seeds at Uncle Philip, and now they've
finished up with a shower bath. TAX
| ing their bath in their drinking-cu too,
the little brutes! It's too bad, vow ~
/ Uncle Philip was silent, but his face,
as he glared at the cage overhead, was
a study. apOlOgized, eagerly, abject-
lv, and, hoped, to some purpose.
Then we adjourned to the front parlOr,
and finished the evening quietly.
| Uncle Philip was up bright and early
| the next morning. | was surprised to
| find bim in the dining -rOnm when
went down, before the bell rang, to see
that the table was properly set. Hero
was beside him, blinking up with his
great stupid eyes, one big paw laid up
on Uncle Philips knee, and his red
tongue lolling out idiotically. I'm
Gle Philip greeted me affectiOnately,
| though. fancied, with rather an air of
couStraint.
Did you sleep well, Uncle Philip ~
| | asked.
Uncle Philip hesitated.
sit was quiet enough most of the
night" he said, "but | was somewhat
disturbed toward morning"
mot used to the city noises ?"
asked but Jack, who came in behind
me, laughed.
Nonsense, Madger' he said. "YOu
forget that Uncle Philip lives in Chi
cagO, which is not exactly country. 1t
was all those birds of yours again. I'm
Gle Philips room is directly over my
study, and the things tuned up at day
! light, as usual. Nobody could sleep in
Cd
TESS, Uncle Philip, was not that the
trouble ?"
"Why, Jack !" I said, half crying.
lings couldn't disturb anybody with
their singing, and you know there is
not another window in the house where
they can hang. Uncle Philips is the
only other east room, and they must
have the morning sun"
"Oh, pray do not disturb your ar
rangements on my account" said Uncle
Philip, rather grimly. ''No doubt
shall get used to it in the course of
| time
just here Hero made a diversion by
an unexpected and successful spring at
the chop on Jacks plate, with which
he vanished through the back door,
while Uncle Philip and Jack laughed
and applauded.
Uncle Philip staid with us less than a
week, growing daily more silent and
testy. When, on the fifth day, he an
nounced his intention of leaving us,
could not feel deeply grieved but Jack
was.
at is all very we'll for yOu," he said.
"Uncle Philip is no relation of yours,
and you have no old claims of affec-
ton and kinship pulling at you. 1t is
not his money, as you very well know,
| bnt he is the last one of my mothers
family left, and to have him driven out
of his nephew's house by those ridicu-
lOus pets of yours-well, it's hard, and
no mistake"
Nonsense, Jack The birds have
nothing to do with it," said; but Jack
shrugged his shoulders.
IAN right" he said ; ''but a man of
Uncle Philips age and habits can't
stand being wakened at daylight every
morning, and disturbed at all hours of
the day and night besides"
Il don't disturb him." / said. g.
"You do" said Jack. "YOu spend
your whole time prancing up and down
dow just below his room, because you
fancy that those blessed birds are dying
of too much or too little air"
but, Jack | said, ''the poor things
are sitting, and they need constant
die, would you?"
"Hd have you consider the comfort
of human beings before that of ami
mails said Jack. However, the thing
is done now. Nothing would induce
Uncle Philip to spend another night
here. He has business to attend to in
the city, though, and has taken board
in Ninth Street for few weeks"
| was sorry that Jack was vexed, of
course, but | really could not feel un-
happy at losing a guest so utterly un-
feeling and incOnsiderate. Besides
Aunt Clarice had written to ask when
it would be convenient for us to receive
her, and she could now come as soon
as she felt inclined.
1t was the very day after Uncle
Philip left that | found JOu-jou, the
female bird lying dead upon the floor
Ny first idea was that it was a mean
piece of vengeance upon Jacks part
and | taxed him with it, but he denied
it Indignantly.
Pm not such a brute as you seem tC
think, Madge,1 he said. Il don't like
the birds, but | wouldn't hurt a feather
of their tails. Look here, though" as
he poked out with the point of his pen.
knife something that had lodged in the
tiny beak. "Here is what did the mis-
chief Stolen from my desk, too, by
Jeve, \ clear case of poetic Justice"
1t was a tiny bit of red wafer which
he held out fol me to examine, and o
course | had to acknowledge that i
alone had caused the catastrophe.
buried my little pet mournfully, anC
! thought of bringing another to replac,
her, but Jack put his veto upon an.
such proceeding.
| ''Bnt, Jack" said, "Bijou will di
, of loneliness"
LET him." said Jack, savagely, ant
that was all.
Well, Biiou didn't die of Loneliness
! On the contrary, after rejecting on tn
situation for a few days, he plucked ~
7 heart, and launched himself into such
: torrent of rollicking song that Jack wa
: more frantic than ever. Not even tn
p melancholy sight of the nestful of col,
I little BLUSH speckled eggs seemed t
= dash his gayety in the least To tel
p the truth, | was slightly disguste,
r (though | wOnld have died before
} would have told Jack SOY, for, try as
p might, could not persuade myself tha
, the triumphant, rollicking, gurgliD
D song bore The slightest resemblance to
: wall of dispair.
We saw Uncle Philip tolerably often
o though he no longer staid with us.
= noticed, however, that he could wit
!. L. l. Id IL.