The landlord met them at the open door, and greeted them as if old
acquaintances.

"Why, neighbor, you have brought me a fine flock of birds!" he said,
cordially.

"Yes, they are choice singing birds and will roost with you to-night and
to-morrow will fly away to Frankfort."

"All right, all right! We have a room that will suit them exactly."

"These boys spoke of being thirsty, neighbor. Will you have some fresh
water brought for them? I offered them something stronger in the shape
of a bottle of mineral water or sarsaparilla, but they prefer the
water."

The order was given, and a large stone pitcher and glasses soon
appeared. The moment Pixy saw it he sprang up, put his feet on the
pitcher and tried to lick the drops from it.

"Wait a bit, Pixy! I am so thirsty," exclaimed Fritz, and he drained the
glass of cold water without stopping.

"My boy," said Mr. Furman, "the true friend of our poor dependent dumb
creatures attends to their wants first; the really kind master will not
let them wait while he satisfies his own hunger and thirst."

Fritz was ashamed of his treatment of Pixy, and was glad to pour some of
the water into a basin which the innkeeper reached to him. He carried it