gain, never, never
in my world."

"Were you trying to help when you let out the bird?"

"Yes'm, I was. He was singin' for somethin' to eat."

"O, I begin to understand," said aunt Madge, laughing heartily. "So
you didn't mean to be a naughty girl after all. I am very glad of
that, Prudy, for I couldn't tell what to make of you. 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.

CHAPTER XIII

THE GYPSY SUPPER

After a great, great while, it was afternoon, and the children went up
to the Pines, carrying a small market basket half full of nice things.

I don't know which felt most at home in those woods, the birds or the
children. It wasn't at all like having a party in a parlor, where
there are chairs and rugs in the way; and where you can't run and jump
without being afraid of hurting something. No, there wasn't any danger
of scratching the varnish off the trees, nor any danger of soiling the
soft carpet of the earth.

And if there hadn't been a party, it was enough to make any body happy
only to breathe the sweet air, and look away down at the white
village, and away off at the blue hills.

Dr. Gray's daughter Ruth, a girl of fourteen, was to have the care of
Prudy; and at first she followed the child about like her shadow.

"You dear little pet," said she, "don't walk so fast. There, now, my
sweet dovey, let me take your hand."

Prudy looked down at her copper-toed shoes with something like a pout,
and slowly gave her hand to the young girl.

"Now, you're a little pink of a dear," said Ruth. "Let's see," added
she, feeling anxious to say something, for she thought Prudy would
want to be amused, "do you love your aunt Madge any? _I_ think she's
very good and nice."

"Yes'm," said Prudy, "I've kissed her so much that I love her a good
deal."

"Well, I declare," laughed Ruth, "that's a new way of learning to love
any body! I guess people call you a funny little monkey, don't they?"

"No'm, they don't," replied Prudy, drawing away a little, "they think
I'm as cunning as I can be."

"O, my! I know a little girl that thinks pretty well of herself. Ah,