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Updated: June 8, 2025
The gardener understanding what they wanted cut a number of boughs, which placed across the cart formed in their opinion a very appropriate hearse. Fanny then went back and brought out poor little Pecksy, followed by Norman, who acted as chief mourner. The bird being placed in due form on its bier, they set forth, Fanny drawing the hearse, and Norman carrying the hoe over his shoulder.
We cannot bear to suppose that, ill-tempered as he was, he could have meditated the destruction of his gentle sister's little favourite. People often do not consider the sad results of their evil temper and bad conduct. The book fell directly on poor little Pecksy. Fanny gave a cry of grief and terror.
"Oh, what have you done, Norman!" she exclaimed, as she saw his face just above the chair, with an expression, oh how different to what she could have supposed that of her little brother could wear. He did not utter a word, but gazed intently at the book. She lifted it up. There lay her dear little Pecksy motionless.
She took it up, and, looking at it for a moment, burst into tears. For some time she stood with her arm resting on the table, supporting her head in her hand. "I did not think I should feel so much for poor, dear, little Pecksy," she said, trying to restrain her tears. Norman stood by crying also.
Pecksy and Flapsy I used to call them. I like the Miss Brownings; one gets enough of respect from them at any rate; and I've always wanted to see the kind of menage of such people. I'll bring you a whole pile of Miss Edgeworth's stories, my dear. Molly sate quite silent for a minute or two; then she mustered up courage to speak out what was in her mind. 'Well, go on I like to hear you.
She, supposing that he had gone off with the laird, did not expect to see him, and having brought Pecksy down to the library, was amusing herself by playing with her little favourite. Having collected some crumbs after breakfast in a paper, she brought them with her, and seating herself in a large arm-chair at the library table, placed the cage by her side, and took Pecksy out of it.
"I wonder what name I shall give you," she said, talking to the bird. "Old Alec did not tell me if you have got one. Shall I call you Dickey, Flapsey, or Pecksy? I must have a name for you. Perhaps granny will help me to find one. What name would you like to be called by, pretty bird?
I propose that we should get the little cart, and and that we should put some boughs on it, and place Pecksy on the top of them, and draw him to a quiet part of the grounds, and that you should dig a grave. We will then put a tomb-stone, and I will write an epitaph to put on it.
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