Polly thanked her, and ran away to a quiet corner of the back
room, where I saw her slowly reading the clipping as she rocked herself
in her pretty birch chair. When she had read it through, she sat for
some time looking very thoughtful. At last she rose and carried the
paper back to Miss Katharine, halting a moment as she passed my cage,
to whisper softly:
"Dickey Downy, you dear little fellow, I'm going upstairs right this
very minute to take the feathers off my best Sunday hat and I'm never,
never going to wear birds any more."
CHAPTER XII
TWO SLAVES OF FASHION
I do not like the fashion of your garments.
--_Shakespeare._
I'm sure thou hast a cruel nature and a bloody.
--_Shakespeare._
Two young ladies, fashionably dressed, met each other that afternoon
just in front of our side window, which had been raised to let in the
air. From the warmth of their greeting I saw that they were on terms
of friendly intimacy.
One of the girls stood a little out of the range of my vision,
therefore I could not hear her voice when she talked, if, indeed, she
had a chance to say anything, but the vivacious monologue carried on by
her friend was amply sufficient to show the theme which interested them.
How glibly that pretty creature chattered! How fast the words flew!
How she arched her eyebrows and shrugged her shoulders and winked her
eyes and wrinkled her forehead and pursed her rosy lips and tilted her
nose and gesticulated with her slender hand and tapped the pavement
with her umbrella point, passing from each phase of expression to the
next with a rapidity truly wonderful.
Pages:
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112