his arm, "I'll try very
hard not to go into a temper again like that."
"Yes, yes, do, my boy," he said, taking my hand in his and speaking very
affectionately. "Don't give way to temper, my boy, it's a bad habit.
But I'm not sorry, Nat, I'm not a bit sorry, my dear boy, to see that
you've got some spirit in you like your poor mother. She was so
different to me, Nat. I never had a bit of spirit, and people have
always done as they pleased with me."
I could not help thinking about my aunt just then, but I said nothing,
and it was Uncle Joe who began again about the parrot.
"So you think we could not put Humpty Dumpty together again, Nat?"
"No, uncle," I said despairingly, "I'm sure we could not. It's all so
much lost time."
"There's plenty more time to use, Nat, for some things," he said
dreamily, "but not for doing our work, and--and, my boy, after your aunt
has let us be out here so much, I'm afraid that I dare not tell her of
our failure."
"Then what's to be done, uncle?" I said.
"I'm afraid, my boy, we must be very wicked and deceitful."
"Deceitful, uncle?"
"Yes, my boy, or your aunt will never forgive us."
"Why, what do you mean, uncle?" I said.
"I've been thinking, my boy, that I might go out somewhere and buy a
grey parrot--one already stuffed. I dare not face her without."
I felt puzzled, and with a strong belief upon me that we were going to
do a very foolish thing.
"Wouldn't it be better to go and tell Aunt Sophia frankly that we have
had an accident, and spoiled the parrot, uncle?"
"Yes, my boy, much better," he said, "very much better; but--but I dare
not do it, Nat, I dare not do it."
I felt as if I should like to say, "I'll do it, uncle," but I, too,
shrank from the task, and we were saved from the underhanded proceeding
by the appearance of my aunt at the tool-house door.
My unfortunate attempt at restuffing poor Polly made me less a favourite
than ever with Aunt Sophia, who never let a day pass without making some
unpleasant allusion to my condition there. My uncle assured me that I
was in no wise dependent upon them, for my mother's money gave ample
interest for my education and board, but Aunt Sophia always seemed to
ignore that fact, so that but for Uncle Joe's kindness I should have
been miserable indeed.
The time slipped away, and I had grown to be a tall strong boy of
fifteen; and in spite of my aunt's constant fault-finding I received
sufficient encoura
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