round him as soon as he appeared, chirping, fluttering, pecking, and hopping so fearlessly and gayly, that people often came to see the pretty sight, and "Bertie's birds" were one of the lions of the neighborhood.
Cocky was very busy and important about this time. His tail-feathers had grown again, he seemed to have put on a new drab waistcoat, and his head was so sleek that Bertie was sure he used pomade. When he called at the balcony, he often brought another sparrow with him,—a plump, downy bird, with a bright eye, a Quakerish dress, and very gentle manners.
"Mamma says Cocky is going to be married, and that pretty one is his little sweetheart. Won't it be nice? I wonder if he will ask us to the wedding, and where he will live!" said Bertie, standing still in the park, staring up at the nests stuck on the elm boughs, now green with tender leaves and noisy with happy birds.
"I don't think he will ask us, and I very much fear that there won't be room in that brown nest for the old papa and the young folks also," answered Mr. P., staring as hard as Bertie did.
"Then we must ask the mayor to have a new
