It Dunwing and crazy mouseworm

Sometimes Bull Sparra would retire to his private chamber. He would remain in there brooding for days, suddenly emerging to fire his warriors with grandiose schemes and wild ideas. No one dared to disobey him, even though half an hour later he had forgotten his previous foolhardy notions and wandered off to hunt worms. Later he would return to find that his plans had not been carried out. In a furious squabble of accusation and recrimination he would demote officers and promote the most unlikely soldiers from the ranks. Next day

Warbeak flew in from a lone wormhunt. She stood watching Matthias.

"Me hunt worms," she chirped. "Bring dandelions for

Matthias. Mouse like eat flowers."

Matthias replied in Sparra language, "Warbeak good hunter. Mouse like flower. Make good wormfood. Where be Dunwing mother?"

Warbeak pointed to the King's chamber. "Dunwing get Bull Sparra wormfood ready. King have no wife to make

food."

Matthias acted unconcerned. He pulled at the collar to

loosen it.

"Collar hurt mouseneck," he grinned. Warbeak shrugged sympathetically. "King say you weara. No can take off. Me sorry."

Matthias continued sorting through his belongings. He came across an unopened package. What a stroke of luck! It was candied chestnuts. Hastily he slipped them into the haversack, hiding the nuts from Warbeak. Under normal circumstances he would gladly have given them to his friend, but this was different. Matthias needed them as bait.

They continued gossiping until Dunwing returned. After a decent interval the young mouse spoke to her, "You go to King's room all lotta time." Dunwing nodded.

"Me only Sparra King Bull let into there," she laughed. "He lazy Sparra. Not make own wormfood." Matthias shared her laughter.

"Betcha King not know how to make own wormfood," he chuckled. "What you think, Dunwing? Matthias find a gift for King?"

206

The Sparra mother looked up sharply. "What mouse mean. Gift?" Matthias drew close and whispered conspiratorially. "You

*member how King Bull like mouse candynuts? Me find more. You take me. We give nuts to King."

Dunwing looked doubtful. "What for mouse wanta give nuts to King?"

Matthias spread his paws as if stating the obvious. "So King let mouse free. Wanta go back to mousehome."

Matthias held his breath and watched Dunwing. Finally tier face softened. She smiled sympathetically. "All right, Matthias. We try. Not do much harm, but 'member, not fttake Bull Sparra bad temper. He killee sure."The best way to reduce labour in refilling vape cartridge is by getting an oil filling machine! They have a small table top design and come with a year’s warranty. So, do some work with this machine!

With an inward sigh of relief Matthias swept up the packet of nuts.

"Thank you, Sparra mother," he said. "Mouse not make jbrouble for you. Nuts make King happy, you see."

With Matthias trailing behind her on his lead, Dunwing lapped on the slates which formed King Bull Sparra's wall. An irate voice came from within. ' "Fly 'way, Sparra! King wanta sleep."

-    Dunwing realized they had chosen a bad moment. Nevertheless she persisted, this time tapping harder. "Let in, King iferother. . Gotta gift for great King."

remain in the house that now

To Ida's intense anxiety, her landlady was unusually cool at the tea-table. She did not come up to Ida May's room that evening to chat, but announced that she had a headache, needed quiet, and would stay in her own room. Her presence during the long evenings had done much toward making the girl forget her sorrow, and she felt her absence keenly enough on this night when she had so much need of sympathy.

Feeling too restless to commune with her own thoughts, she concluded to read a book to fill in the time that hung so heavily on her hands.

Ida May descended to the sitting-room, where, she remembered, she had left the book on the table. She went down the carpeted stairs quietly, passing Mrs.[63] Cole's door with noiseless feet, that she might not disturb her.

As she stood before the door of the sitting-room, with her hand on the knob, she was suddenly attracted by the sound of voices from within, her own name falling distinctly upon her ears. She stood still with astonishment, for the voice that uttered her name was that of Frank Garrick.

Her first impulse was to turn quickly away; but the words that she heard him utter held her spell-bound.

Mr. Garrick was talking to Mrs. Cole in a low, excited voice, and what the girl heard filled her soul with wildest terror.

For a moment she stood irresolute; then her decision was made. As soon as the morning broke, she would leave that house.

She flew back to her room, her mind in a whirl, her brain dizzy with conflicting emotions. She sat down in a chair by the open window, and leaned her hot, flushed face in the palms of her hands. She was beginning to learn the lessons of the great, wicked world. How long she sat there she never knew.

She was planning about what she should do when the morrow came. Though she starved on the street, she would not go back to the telegraph office where Frank Garrick was; nor could she  sheltered her, where the woman who pretended to be her friend and counselor was deliberately plotting against her.

She had purchased a dress, cloak, and hat out of the money she had found in her pocket. This expenditure had reduced the little sum considerably; but she had been obliged to present a respectable appearance.

[64]

Where should she look for work in the great big city? While she was cogitating over the matter, Mrs. Cole appeared in the door-way with a glass of lemonade in her hand.

"I have brought you something very refreshing, Ida," she said. "It took away my headache, and it will make you enjoy a good night's sleep."

"Thank you, but I do not care for the lemonade," returned the girl, coldly.

Her first impulse had been to spring to her feet, and inform her that she had accidently overheard her conversation with Frank Garrick, and upbraid her for it in the bitterest of words. Then the thought occurred to her that discretion was the better part of valor—to say nothing, and leave the house quietly in the morning vacation rentals.