If only he were not stretched here, a mere burden, a
clog.
The look in his sunken eyes,--glowing like coals,--the burning words
which she read on his silent lips, made her slip her hands from his and
move hastily away. She went confusedly over to the window and hailed the
sight of the birds on the sill with sudden relief.
"My little feathered family are all here," she said without looking
round. "Can you see the blue jay? He is on the window-sill trying his
best to peep over it at you."
"I hope he is jealous of me," trying to speak lightly.
"He's a great tyrant. He has driven away all the other birds. He will
not allow them to have one of the crumbs that I put out. Most of them
are sitting in a forlorn little row on the nearest tree. I wonder what
he is saying to them in that rough voice, yet maybe it is better not to
know. It must be something very rude, the redbird's bearing makes me
think so. He is standing very straight and holding his head very high,
but he isn't saying a word--of course. He is too much of a gentleman to
quarrel with a rowdy like the blue jay.
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