"It's one of the
biggest places on Main Street, with hydrangeas growing like posies all
around the door. Any one will show ye."

"Go back for them, Danny lad. Ye can leave laddie here with me while ye
bring the others back; for the day is passing, and we must be sailing
home."

XIV.--POLLY.

Main Street was not hard to find, neither seemed the Fosters. A corner
druggist directed Dan without hesitation to a wide, old-fashioned house,
surrounded by lawns and gardens, in which the hydrangeas--blue, pink,
purple--were in gorgeous summer bloom. But, though the broad porch was gay
with cushions and hammocks, no boys were in sight; and, lifting the latch
of the iron gate, Dan was proceeding up the flower-girdled path to the
house, when the hall door burst open and a pretty little girl came flying
down the steps in wild alarm.

"Bobby!" she cried. "My Bobby is out! Bobby is gone! Oh, somebody catch
Bobby, please,--somebody catch my Bobby!"

A gush of song answered the wail. Perched upon the biggest and pinkest of
the hydrangeas was a naughty little canary, its head on one side warbling
defiantly in the first thrill of joyous freedom. Its deserted mistress
paused breathlessly. A touch, a movement, she knew would send him off into
sunlit space beyond her reach forever.

Quick-witted Dan caught on to the situation. A well-aimed toss of his cap,
and the hydrangea blooms were quivering under the beat of the captive's
fluttering wings. Dan sprang forward and with a gentle, cautious hand
grasped his prisoner.

"Oh, oh, oh!" was all the little lady could cry, clasping her hands
rapturously. "Don't--don't hurt him, please!"

"I won't," was the answer. "But get his cage quick; for he's scared to
death at my holding him."

Bobby's mistress darted into the house at the word, and reappeared again
in a moment with a gilded palace that was surely all a bird could ask
for.

"O Bobby, Bobby!" she murmured reproachfully, as Dan deposited his subdued
and trembling captive behind the glittering bars. "When you had this
lovely new cage and everything you wanted!"

"No, he hadn't," said Dan, conscious of a sudden sympathy with his
feathered prisoner. "He has wings and wants to use them."

"But he couldn't find seed or chickweed for himself, and the cats and
hawks would have had him before morning. Oh, I'm so glad to get him back
safe I don't know how to thank you for catching him for me!" And the
little lady lifted a pair of