y was there.
She at last sank down, exhausted, on a sofa. She heard a wicked, little
peep, and looking up, saw Barry sitting on one of the rounds of the
chair that she had been carrying about to look for him. He had been
there all the time. She was so glad to see him, that she never thought
of scolding him.

He was never allowed to fly about the dining room during meals, and the
table maid drove him out before she set the table. It always annoyed
him, and he perched on the staircase, watching the door through the
railings. If it was left open for an instant, he flew in. One evening,
before tea, he did this. There was a chocolate cake on the sideboard,
and he liked the look of it so much that he began to peck at it. Mrs.
Montague happened to come in, and drove him back to the hall.

While she was having tea that evening, with her husband and little boy,
Barry flew into the room again. Mrs. Montague told Charlie to send him
out, but her husband said, "Wait, he is looking for something."

He was on the sideboard, peering into every dish, and trying to look
under the covers. "He is after the chocolate cake," exclaimed Mrs.
Montague. "Here, Charlie; put this on the staircase for him."

She cut off a little scrap, and when Charlie took it to the hall, Barry
flew after him, and ate it up.

As for poor, little, lame Dick, Carl never sold him, and he became a
family pet. His cage hung in the parlor, and from morning till night
his cheerful voice was heard, chirping and singing as if he had not a
trouble in the world. They took great care of him. He was never allowed
to be too hot or too cold. Everybody gave him a cheerful word in passing
his cage, and if his singing was too loud, they gave him a little mirror
to look at himself in. He loved this mirror, and often stood before it
for an hour at a time.

CHAPTER XII MALTA THE CAT

THE first time I had a good look at the Morris cat, I thought she was
the queerest-looking animal I had ever seen. She was dark gray just the
color of a mouse. Her eyes were a yellowish green, and for the first few
days I was at the Morrises' they looked very unkindly at me. Then
she got over her dislike and we became very good friends. She was a
beautiful cat, and so gentle and affectionate that the whole family
loved her.

She was three years old, and she had come to Fairport in a vessel with
some sailors, who had gotten her in a far-away place. Her name was
Malta, and she was called a ma