"My bird is dead, said Susy P.,
My bird is dead; O, deary me!
He sang so sweet, te whee, te whee;
He sings no more; O, deary me!
Go hang his cage up in the tree,
That cage I care no more to see.
My bird is dead, cried Susy P."

These provoking words Percy drawled out in a sing-song voice. It was
too much. Susy's eyes flashed through her tears.

"You've always laughed at me, Percy Eastman, and plagued me about Freddy
Jackson, and everything, and I've borne it like a--like a lady. But when
you go to laughing at my poor little Dandy that's dead, and can't
speak--"

Susy was about to say, "Can't speak for himself," but saw in time how
absurdly she was talking, and stopped short.

Percy laughed.

"Where are you going with that cage?"

"Going to put it away, where I'll never see it again," sobbed poor Susy.

"Give it to me," said Percy: "I'll take care of it for you."

If Susy's eyes had not been blinded by tears, she would have been
surprised to see the real pity in Percy's face.