to the stable.

Mrs. Morris sat on the hall chair, patting me as I rubbed against
her, in rather an absent minded way. Then she got up and went into her
husband's study, and told him what Carl had done.

Mr. Morris seemed very pleased to hear about it, but when his wife asked
him to do something to make up the loss to the boy, he said: "I had
rather not do that. To encourage a child to do a kind action, and then
to reward him for it, is not always a sound principle to go upon."

But Carl did not go without his reward. That evening, Mrs. Montague's
coachman brought a note to the house addressed to Mr. Carl Morris. He
read it aloud to the family.

MY DEAR CARL: I am charmed with my little bird, and he has whispered to
me one of the secrets of your room. You want fifteen dollars very much
to buy something for it. I am sure you won't be offended with an old
friend for supplying you the means to get this something.

ADA MONTAGUE.

"Just the thing for my stationary tank for the goldfish," exclaimed
Carl. "I've wanted it for a long time; it isn't good to keep them in
globes, but how in the world did she find out? I've never told any one."

Mrs. Morris smiled, and said; "Barry must have told her;" as she took
the money from Carl to put away for him.

Mrs. Montague got to be very fond of her new pet. She took care of him
herself, and I have heard her tell Mrs. Morris most wonderful stories
about him stories so wonderful that I should say they were not true if I
did not how intelligent dumb creatures get to be under kind treatment.

She only kept him in his cage at night, and when she began looking for
him at bedtime to put him there, he always hid himself. She would
search a short time, and then sit down, and he always came out of his
hiding-place, chirping in a saucy way to make her look at him.

She said that he seemed to take delight in teasing her. Once when he was
in the drawing-room with her, she was called away to speak to some one
at the telephone. When she came back, she found that one of the servants
had come into the room and left the door open leading to a veranda.
The trees outside were full of yellow birds, and she was in despair,
thinking that Barry had flown out with them. She looked out, but could
not see him. Then, lest he had not left the room, she got a chair and
carried it about, standing on it to examine the walls, and see if Barry
was hidden among the pictures and bric-a-brac. But no Barr