at anything from a fatal chill to a fatal
hawk might befall him. But the first sound that
greeted my waking senses in the morning was
Mary's delighted, rich-toned, "Why, Robby!"
and there, on top of his cage, sat a hungry, happy
little bird, chirping eagerly and gesticulating with
one wing in a funny fashion of his own, peculiar
to seasons of excitement.

Mary--be it said in passing--was Cecilia's predecessor and for several
years, at the outset of our housekeeping, gave us a devotion only
surpassed by her devotion to her own large and lively family. They
lived but a few miles away, in the Boston suburb known as Jamaica
Plain, and Mary was subject to violent attacks of homesickness,
especially at Christmas, Easter, Hallowe'en and Thanksgiving, so that
we were usually deprived of her services when we needed them most. Once
at home, she would feast and frolic until she had made herself just
sick enough to have a pathetic pretext for prolonging her absence day
after day. When she turned up at last, her Irish wit would inevitably
forestall and frustrate any little unpleasantness that might be
awaiting her. I had mentioned at table one evening, while Mary was
changing the courses, that, lunching with our college president that
day, I had enjoyed luscious grapefruit fresh from the West Indies,
"brought her by a private hand from Jamaica." From her next truancy
Mary returned with a bulging paper bag in her arms, which, even while
my lips were parting to utter a deeply meditated reproach, she dumped
upon me with her rosy cheeks aglow and her round blue eyes all
twinkles. "Here's grapefruit for yez, brought by a private hand from
Jamaica--Plain." The family, waiting about gleefully to hear me deliver
that purposed scolding, broke into a shout of laughter, and the honors
of the day rested, as always, with the culprit.

During one of these vacations, intolerably prolonged by excuse after
excuse, our patience gave way and we availed ourselves of a sudden
chance to put in her place, as temporary substitute, a highly competent
(and expensive) Scandinavian woman. Thus we entered upon a month of
unparalleled luxury, for Gunilla proved to be a cook of the first
order. We were quite below her standard of household opulence and
elegance, as we realized when she asked us, with her invariable bearing
of respectful dignity, if we would kindly tell her where our wine
cellar was located, but she was disposed to take a rest between great
ho