had ceased to beat; his frail life had gone out
as suddenly as a spark of fire.

Susy was too much shocked to speak. She stood holding the stiffening
bird in her hands, and gazing at it.

Mrs. Parlin was very sorry for Susy, and had too much kindness of
feeling to add to her distress by saying,--

"You know how I warned you, Susy."

Susy was already suffering for her obstinacy and disregard of her
mother's advice; and Mrs. Parlin believed she would lay the lesson to
heart quite as well without more words. It was a bitter lesson. Susy
loved dumb creatures dearly, and was just becoming very fond of Dandy.

In the midst of her trouble, and while her eyes were swollen with tears,
her cousin Percy came with Wings and the sleigh to give her the promised
ride. Susy no longer cared for going out: it seemed to her that her
heart was almost broken.

"Well, cousin Indigo, what is the matter?" said Percy; "you look as if
this world was a howling wilderness, and you wanted to howl too. What,
crying over that bird? Poh! I can buy you a screech-owl any time, that
will make twice the noise he could in his best days. Come, hurry, and
put your things on!"

Susy buried her face in her apron.

"I'll compose a dirge for him," said Percy.

"My bird is dead, said Susy P.,
My bird is dead; O, deary me!
He sang so sweet, te whee, te whee;
He sings no more; O, deary me!
Go hang his cage up in the tree,
That cage I care no more to see.
My bird is dead, cried Susy P."

These provoking words Percy drawled out in a sing-song voice. It was
too much. Susy's eyes flashed through her tears.

"You've always laughed at me, Percy Eastman, and plagued me about Freddy
Jackson, and everything, and I've borne it like a--like a lady. But when
you go to laughing at my poor little Dandy that's dead, and can't
speak--"

Susy was about to say, "Can't speak for himself," but saw in time how
absurdly she was talking, and stopped short.

Percy laughed.

"Where are you going with that cage?"

"Going to put it away, where I'll never see it again," sobbed poor Susy.

"Give it to me," said Percy: "I'll take care of it for you."

If Susy's eyes had not been blinded by tears, she would have been
surprised to see the real pity in Percy's face.

He was a rollicking boy, full of merriment and bluster, and what tender
feelings he possessed, he took such a wonderful amount of pains to
conceal, that Susy never suspected he had