256 THE LAND OF PLUCK

Katty said so. He hopped from one perch to another,
twitched his head this way and that, glanced about him
with his quick little black eyes, saw that Kitty was down-
hearted, and straightway began to sing!

“Cheer up, Kitty,’ he seemed to say. “I ’m here.
Listen!” And then a trill, so sweet and soft and cheery,
floated around the room and through the open window
that Kitty brightened up wonderfully. Everything seemed
different to her in an instant. To be confined to the house
for a few days longer was not so bad, after all; and to
be well enough to sit up and watch Fluffy, why, that was
perfectly delightful! And what a dear, pretty little crea-
ture he was—so light and soft and helpless, if you thought
of him in one way; so brave and wise and wonderful, if
you thought of him as he sat there cheering little Kitty!
How he hopped, too: now to the floor of the cage, now to
the perches, now to the seed-cup, stopping to sing at almost
every turn! Kitty said it made her laugh to think how she
would feel if she were to jump down to the kitchen, up to the
roof, out in the garden, in at the window, all in a minute.

But was n’t he tired? Did n’t he want something more
to eat? Would sugar hurt him? Was it safe to give him
orange-peel ? Did n’t he need more gravel? More water ?
More anything? And if he did n’t now, would n’t he very
soon? Kitty asked these questions of herself and those
around her again and again. Her mother laughingly told
her that as Mr. Warbler would need to be attended to
every single day, he would be troublesome enough after a
while. And Kitty hoped he would. It would be so nice
to take care of the dear little fellow. Hey, Fluffy? So it