"Don't swear," said Mrs. Polly coolly.
The canary had been a silent spectator all this time, and hardly dared to breathe; but when Mrs. Polly pounced on the old rat's paw she gave a nervous flutter.
"Oh! I hadn't noticed you before, my friend," exclaimed Gray Whisker, with his horrible grin; "you're a very tender morsel, and I'm not a bit afraid of your soft little beak;" and the old villain began to descend the curtain on Mrs. Polly's side and ascend the one that hung by the canary's cage.
Poor Dicky was completely paralyzed with terror. Up came the gray nose and wicked-looking eyes nearer and nearer, and yet poor Dicky sat without stirring, his terrified eyes fastened on the horrible monster that could crush him with one grasp of his paw. At last he was opposite the cage, and was about to reach out his paw to seize it, when the spell that kept Dicky
