However, it is
only natural to suppose that hopping about in a narrow space would be
dreadful to a bird accustomed to spreading its wings and soaring up
through the sky whenever and wherever it pleased."
Miss Kathy looked at the clock. She saw it was time for her to go back
into the store, then gathered up her work and went into the front room.
When Polly was left to herself I could see she was thinking very hard.
The rocking-chair kept moving faster, and her forehead was drawn into a
little pucker between her eyes. She sighed too, occasionally, as if
she were sad.
I noticed that Miss Katharine from her post behind the counter looked
in at the child from time to time, and I heard her say half-aloud: "If
the fashionable women of the land had hearts as merciful and
consciences as tender as that dear little Polly's, the slaughter of the
birds would soon come to an end."
The birch chair finally ceased to rock. The deep-drawn wrinkle passed
away from Polly's forehead. She laid down her book and came to my
cage, then she stood for a moment looking at me tenderly. Then she
took the cage down from its hook and carried it to the door leading to
the garden. The air was pleasant, and a sunbeam slanted across the
porch making a yellow gleam on the lattice.
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