VII.
LITTLE NEIGHBORS.
TWITTER THE FIRST.
Mamma, I do wish I had a nice, new play. Can't you make me one?" said Bertie, pensively surveying the soles of his shoes, as he lay flat on his back with his heels in the air.
"No, dear, I couldn't possibly stop now, for I must write my letters, or they won't be in time, and papa will be disappointed."
"Then I wish I had somebody to play with me! A jolly little chap who would amuse me and make me laugh," continued Bertie, and, dropping his legs, he lay for a moment, looking as if he really did need a playmate very much.
"Tweet! tweet!" said a little voice, in such a brisk tone that the boy stared about him eager to see who spoke.
One pane of the long window that opened on the balcony was fixed like a door, so that the room might be ventilated. This pane stood open, and perched upon its threshold was a sparrow peering
