"But I like _you_ ever so much, Flossy; now, you know I do. You're
hateful sometimes; but so am I; and I can't tell which is the
hatefulest."

Here Flossy, who was as fickle as the wind, laughed merrily, took off
her hood and cloak, and danced about the room in high spirits.

"Yes," said she, "I'll stay just on purpose to plague you!"

But good humor had been restored on both sides, and the little girls
were soon talking together, as freely as if nothing had happened.

"Just come out in the kitchen," said Susy, "and you shall see me wash my
bird."

"Why, I thought birds washed themselves," replied Florence, following
her cousin with some surprise.

"They do, but Dandy won't; it's all in the world I have against Dandy;
he isn't a cold-water bird."

Grandma Read stood by the kitchen table, clear-starching one of her
caps--a piece of work which she always performed with her own hands.
She moved one side to make room for Susy's bird-cage, but said she did
not approve of washing canaries; she thought it must be a dangerous
experiment.

"If he needed a bath, he would take it himself, Susan. Little birds know
what is best for them by instinct, thee may depend upon it."