herself than Ginger exclaimed,

"Bless my soul, what's that redheaded snippet coming here for?"

It would be hard to say whose face was the redder, Mr. Harrison's or
Anne's.

"Don't you mind that parrot," said Mr. Harrison, casting a furious
glance at Ginger. "He's . . . he's always talking nonsense. I got him
from my brother who was a sailor. Sailors don't always use the choicest
language, and parrots are very imitative birds."

"So I should think," said poor Anne, the remembrance of her errand
quelling her resentment. She couldn't afford to snub Mr. Harrison under
the circumstances, that was certain. When you had just sold a man's
Jersey cow offhand, without his knowledge or consent you must not
mind if his parrot repeated uncomplimentary things. Nevertheless, the
"redheaded snippet" was not quite so meek as she might otherwise have
been.

"I've come to confess something to you, Mr. Harrison," she said
resolutely. "It's . . . it's about . . . that Jersey cow."

"Bless my soul," exclaimed Mr. Harrison nervously, "has she gone and
broken into my oats again? Well, never mind . . . never mind if she has.
It's no difference . . . none at all, I . . . I was too hasty yesterday,
that's a fact. Never mind if she has."

"Oh, if it were only that," sighed Anne. "But it's ten times worse. I
don't . . ."