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Updated: June 23, 2025
But you must never touch the cage again. Little girls that want to help, must ask somebody to tell them what to do. There, now, kiss me, dear, and I'll forgive you, and we won't say any more about your being naughty, if you'll only remember next time." Prudy laughed, and twinkled off the tears. She was what aunt Madge called a "bird-child," and was never unhappy but a little while at a time.
"Did he so?" laughed Marie. "I can well see that my Nightingale can put no more faith in the Swiss. But hearken to me, thou bird-child. There! Hear our salute!" The cannon leaped almost over their heads, and the walls shook with its boom and rebound. Marie kept her finger up and waited for a reply. Minute succeeded minute.
But the "bird-child" could not be sad long at a time, and she had hardly climbed the steps into the trees, and given away the clusters of raisins, before the sick baby was almost forgotten. "There," said Horace, suddenly, "I must go right into the house and see Harry. I haven't seen him to-day."
Sometimes Prudy went with them, but their games were rather rough for her taste. Susy and Florence were generally together, painting with water-colors, pasting scrapbooks, and doing a variety of things in which they did not care to have Prudy join. The dear little girl might have been lonely, and possibly grieved, if she had been anything but a "bird-child."
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