house put up for Cocky. Don't you think he would if I wrote him a nice letter and showed him your book? He'd see what a brave good bird my Twitters is, and give him a nice house, I'm sure," said Bertie earnestly, for he would believe that Cocky had really done all the fine and funny things recounted in that remarkable book.
"Leave it to me, boy. I will see what can be done about a mansion for Cocky to begin housekeeping in;" and Mr. P. gave a knowing nod, as if he had a new idea.
So Bertie said no more, and, soon after this conversation, went to Plymouth, on a visit with mamma. May-day was coming, and Bertie wanted to hang baskets on the doors of young and old neighbors; chief among the latter his dear Mr. P.
Nowhere in New England do May-flowers grow so large and rosy, or bloom so early and so sweet as in Plymouth, and Bertie gathered a great hamper full of the best, made up in nosegays, garlands, and baskets. Then they came home, and all along the way people sniffed and peeped and smiled at the odorous load which the boy guarded so carefully and rejoiced over so much.
Very early next morning, Bertie and mamma
