Penelope and the Others by Amy Walton (best e book reader android .TXT) 📕

his way. Jackdaws always ought to have their wings cut."

"Ought they?" said the doctor humbly. He and his pupil seemed to have changed places. It was now Ambrose who took the lead, for he felt himself on firm ground.

"We lost two that hadn't got their wings cut," he continued, "so now we always cut their wings."

The doctor listened with the greatest respect, and seemed to weigh the matter in his mind. Then he said rather uncertainly:

"But how about the cats?"

Ambrose admitted that danger, but was still sure of his first point. It was best to cut a jackdaw's wing.

"I wonder," he said, looking at the other window, "if you're quite sure he's not in the garden. P'r'aps he's up in some tree."

The doctor shook his head.

"The garden has been thoroughly searched," he said. "There are very few trees there."

"Might I look?" asked Ambrose eagerly. Dr Budge meekly led the way into his little garden. Certainly there was not much room in it for the jackdaw to hide, and it only needed a glance to see that he was not there. The only possible place was in a large old medlar-tree which stood in the middle of the grass plot, with a wooden bench and table under it. It was nearly bare of leaves now, and a few sparrows were hopping about in its branches. Ambrose turned his eyes to the roof of a barn which ran along one side of the garden.

"P'r'aps he's flown over into the farm-yard," he said.

"I sent there early this morning," replied the doctor dejectedly, "and no one had seen the bird."

Big and learned as he was, he looked so cast, down that Ambrose forgot that he had ever been afraid of him, and only desired to give him comfort and help.

"Does he know the garden well?" he asked.

Dr Budge nodded. "His cage has often hung in the medlar-tree in the summer," he said, "when I've been sitting out here."

"Let's hang it there now," said Ambrose, "and p'r'aps if he gets hungry he'll come back to where he's been fed."

The doctor seemed a little cheered by this suggestion, and with Ambrose's help the cage was soon fixed in a good position in the medlar-tree, where the jackdaw could not fail to see it if he came back. All his favourite delicacies in the shape of food were then placed in it, and by this time it was long past Ambrose's usual hour for going home.

As they said good-bye, Dr Budge's eyes rested on him with a new expression. Ambrose felt sure he would never mistake him for David again, and would have confidence in his opinion for the future, at any rate about jackdaws. All the way home his mind was busy with plans for getting back the lost bird.


CHAPTER TEN.

A FRIEND IN NEED.

Ambrose told the story of the doctor's jackdaw at dinner-time to Miss Grey, Nancy, and David, who were all very much interested. The two latter began at once to recall memories of all the jackdaws who had lived at the Vicarage.

"Do you remember the one which flew away in the gale?" said Nancy. "David doesn't, of course. The wind blew the roof right off his house in the night, and we never saw him again."

"The next one was the one which swallowed a thimble," said David--"and died. And then mother said we mustn't have any more jackdaws. I remember that one."

"No," corrected Nancy, "that wasn't the next. The next was the one which got away for three days, and then the postman brought it back. Then came the one that swallowed the thimble, and then, the day after mother had said we were not to have another there came a strange one to Andrew's cottage, and he brought it here for us."

There was a little dispute about the order in which the jackdaws came, which led the conversation quite away from the doctor's loss. But after dinner, when the children were in the garden, Ambrose began to talk of it again.

"I wish," he said to David, "we could think of a way to help him to get it back."

David did not answer at first. He was looking at Andrew, who was sweeping the path at a little distance. Swish, swish, went his broom to right and left amongst the yellow leaves, leaving a bare space in the middle.

"Let's ask Andrew," said David suddenly.

Fortunately Andrew was in a good temper, and though he did not leave off sweeping he listened to the story with attention.

"We want your advice," said Ambrose when he had done.

Andrew stopped his broom for an instant, took off his tall black hat, and gazed into its depths silently.

"I should try a call-bird, master," he said as he put it on again.

"A call-bird?" repeated both the boys together.

Andrew nodded.

"Put a similar bird in a cage near to where t'other one used to be," he said, "and like enough it'll call the old un back."

The boys looked at him with admiration. They had a hundred questions to ask about call-birds, and Andrew's experience of them, but they soon found that it was of no use to try to make him talk any more. Andrew had said his say, and now he wanted to get on with his work.

"Isn't that a splendid thought?" said Ambrose as he and David turned away. "I shall take Jack over with me to-morrow morning in a basket, and put him into Dr Budge's cage."

"How do you suppose he'll call him back?" said David, who had become deeply interested. "P'r'aps he'll be miles and miles away."

"Well, if he can't hear he won't come," answered Ambrose; "but he may be quite near home, and only have lost his way."

"May I go with you?" was David's next question.

Ambrose hesitated. He felt that he would much rather have the whole thing in his own hands.

"You might let me help to carry him as far as the gate," pursued David. "After all, it was me that thought of asking Andrew."

"Well, then," said Ambrose, "you can ask Miss Grey if you may. But you won't want to come further than the gate?" he added in a warning tone.

David could readily promise that, for he was a good deal afraid of Dr Budge; and he ran off at once to get Miss Grey's consent.

This having been given, the two boys set off together the next morning, with Jack in a basket between them making hard angry pecks at the side of it the whole way.

They could see the doctor's cottage for some distance before they reached it, and presently the doctor himself came out and stood at the gate.

"When he sees the basket," remarked David, "he'll think we've found his jackdaw, or p'r'aps he'll think we're bringing him a new one. Won't he be disappointed?"

"I sha'n't give him time to think," said Ambrose. "I shall say, `I've brought a call-bird,' directly I get to him."

David thought it would have been more to the purpose to say, "_We've_ brought a call-bird," but he did not wish to begin a dispute just then, so he let the remark pass.

"Do you suppose," he said, "that he knows what a call-bird is?"

Ambrose gave a snort of contempt.

"Why, there's not a single thing he doesn't know," he answered. "He knows everything in the world."

David's awe increased as they got nearer to the cottage and Dr Budge, who stood with his hands in the pockets of his flannel dressing-gown watching their approach.

"You'd better go back now," said Ambrose when they were quite close. "I'll take the basket."

But David was not going to give up his rights, and he held firmly on to his side of the handle.

"You said I might carry it to the gate," he replied firmly; and thus, both the boys advancing, the basket was set down at the doctor's feet.

"It's a call-bird," said Ambrose very quickly, without waiting to say good-morning, while David fixed his broadest stare on the doctor's face to see the effect of the words.

Doctor Budge looked down at the basket, in which Jack now began to flutter restlessly, and then at the two boys.

"A call-bird, eh?" he said. "And what may a call-bird be?"

Ambrose felt that David was casting a glance of triumph at him. Dr Budge evidently did _not_ know everything in the world. He wished David would go away, but in spite of the sharp nudge he had given him when they put the basket down, he showed no sign of moving. The meaning of the call-bird was soon made clear to the doctor, who listened attentively and said it seemed a very good idea, and that he was much obliged to them for telling him of it.

"It was Andrew who told us," broke in David, speaking for the first time. "We didn't either of us know it before."

"You'd better go home now," said Ambrose, who saw that David did not mean to notice any hints; "you'll be late for Miss Grey."

He took up the basket and gave his brother a meaning look. David's face fell. He would have liked to see Jack put into the cage, but he had promised not to want to go in. As he turned away rather unwillingly the doctor's voice fell on his ear.

"No," it said. "David shall stay too and help. I will ask Miss Grey to excuse him if he is late."

Very soon the two boys, with Dr Budge looking seriously on, had taken Jack out of his basket and put him, in spite of pecks and struggles, into the wicker cage. When this was hung in the medlar-tree just above the bench, he became more composed, and seemed even proud of his new position, but stood in perfect silence, turning his cold grey eye downwards on the doctor and the boys.

"He doesn't look as if he meant to call," remarked David, "but I daresay he'll wait till we're gone."

Although they were all unwilling to leave the jackdaw alone, it did not seem to be of any use to stay there looking at him any longer. The doctor and Ambrose therefore went indoors to their books, and David ran quickly home to his lessons. But it was harder work than usual to attend to Latin verbs and declensions, and Ambrose wondered if Dr Budge's thoughts were as much with the jackdaw as his own.

The window looking into the garden had been left a little open so that any unusual noise could be plainly heard in the room, but for some time only the squeak of the doctor's pen broke the silence. Ambrose began to despair. It would be very disappointing to find that the call-bird was a failure, and very sad for the doctor to be without a jackdaw. Should he give him his? He was fond of his jackdaw, but then he had other pets, and the doctor was so lonely. He had only old brown books