The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, August 28, 1904, Page 7

THE SAN FRANCISCO SUNDAY CALL. -2 rich I am not and cannot be an author~ once took upon myself to write a paper about aim to be a textbook upon the subject. to exhaust the topic. I was willing that should continue the argument—that is, still of opinion there was anything the article. I went out of my and the ‘magazine in which it ap- t to a lady friend of-mine. She was two babies of her own—specimens in no as was natural enough, .did ight be helpful to her— ival fancier, who would be I put the magazine into “Read it through care- 1ing distract you. Have e and note down any 1form If there ¢ let ‘me kno [t may be ! be disag r with m so, do not I 1 t Ii nd arise [ 1 m of this md‘s 8- be of dis- npertinent w sh> said. “What's it all about?” to see it back again. The first, for them back important to “If you It's all “There 1densed,” T , I'll read it,” er, so went I may tolet I don™ ay i of offering counsel in connectlon with ZND 27 11 1.5 INIENDED DABIEe/~AND DIRD» = 3> - 20 BE SERIOUVS y IHEREZS ONE THING VERY CLEAR. , AND IHAT IS5 THRT YOU ARF] NOTr' Z 22 « MOTHER JEROME K. JEROME/ - L QST - 4 ) i et & o ined my d have the »od friends—the his period o bird the weéight e gomng to bui 11d not things er her lding pole. I at it is not her 1 shining, the vo of bricks off work for a few 7 swept away into the p of the wall, our legs after which I could ight be a pleasure. to a sc me t the oad or irom dignation. I love to beneath the eaves out- e chatterboxes they other birds are sleeping. It sounds as if they story, and often I am sure v now and then one hears a ore cunning, I, too, ies that they teil. One or two phrases already I have come to understand: me”—"long, long ago”"—"in a strange, far-off hese words so con ly I am sure I have them “Swallow street,” this row of six or seven r three, like villas in their own grounds, stand ers are semi-detached. It makes me angry that the d steal them. The sparrows will hang ing for a pair of swallows to finish their . laugh that makes my blood boil, drive - swallows away and take possession of .it. And the swallows - so wonderfully patient. “Never mind, old girl,” says Johnny after the first big cry is over, to Jénny Swallow, “let’s try . And half an hour later, full of fresh plans, they are chioosing another likely site, chattering cheerfully once more. 1 watched the building of a particular nest for nearly a fortnight one- year ; and when, after two or three days’ absence I returned and found a pair of sparrows comfortably ensconsed therein, I just felt mad. I saw Mrs. Sparrow looking out Maybe my an- ger was working upon my imagination, but it seemed to me that she nodded to me. “Nice little house, ain’t it. What I call well built.” Mr. Sparrow then flew up with a gaudy feather dyed blue, It had come out of the ornaments in our drawing-room. At an; other time I should have been glad to see him flying off with the whole thing, handle included. But now I felt the theft of one feather as an added injury. "Mrs. Spar- row chirped with delight at the sight of the gaudy monstrosity. Having got the house cheap they were going to spend their small amount of energy upon internal decoration. That was their idea clearly, a “Liberty interior.” She looked more like a Cockney sparrow than a country one—had been born and bred in Regent street, no doubt. 4 “There is not much justice in this world,” said I to myself, “but there’s going to be some introduced into this business—that is, if I can find a ladder.” I did find a ladder, and fortunately it was long enough. Mr. and Mrs. Sparrow were out when I arrived; possibly on the hunt for cheap photo frames and Japanese fans. I did not want to make a mess; I removed the house neatly into a dust pan and wiped the street clear of every trace of it. "I had just put back the ladder when Mrs. Sparrow returned with a piece of pink cotton wool in her mouth. That was her idea of a color scheme ; apple-blossom pink and Reckitt’s blue side by side. She dropped her wool and sat on the water spout and tried to under- stand -things. “Number I, number 2, number 4, where the blaze” I recognized it. brush with which the girl breaks the china which belonged to me. —sparrows are essentially common and the women are as bad as the men—*is number 37" Mr. Sparrow came up from behind, over the roof. He was carrying a piece of yellow fluff, part of a lamp shade, as far as I could judge. “Move yourself,” he said, “what’s the sense of sitting there in the rain.” “I went out just for a moment,” replied Mrs. Sparrow; “I could not have been gone, no, not a couple of minutes. “When I came back”—— “Oh, get indoors,” said Mr. Spar- row, “talk about it there.” “It’s what I'm telling you,” continued Mrs. Sparrow, “if you would only listen. There isn’t any door, there isn’t any house”™ “Isn’t any™ Mr. Sparrow, holding on to the rim of the spout, turned himself topsy-turvey and sur- veyed the street. From where I was standing, behind the laurel bushes, I could see nothing but his back. He stood up again look- ing angry and flushed. “What have you done with the house? Can't I turn my back”—— “I ain’t done nothing with it. As I keep on telling you, I had only just gone” “Oh, bother where you had gone.” Where’s the darned house gone? That's what I want to know.” They looked at one another. If ever astonish- ment was expressed in the attitude of a bird, it was told by the tails of those two sparrows. They whispered wickedly together. The idea occurred to them that by force or cunning they might perhaps obtain possession of one of the other nests. But all the other nests were occupied, and even gentle Jenny Swallow, in her own home with the children round about her, is not to be trifled with. Mr. Sparrow called at Nuniber 2, put his head in at the door, then returned to the water spout. “Lady says we don’t live there,” he explained to Mrs. Sparrow. There was silence for a while. “Not what I call a classy street,” commented Mrs. Sparrow. “If it were not for this terrible tired feeling of mine,” said Mr. Sparrow, “blame me if I wouldn’t build a house of my own.” “Perhaps,” said Mrs.” Sparrow, “I have heard it said that a little bit of work, now and then, does you good.” “All sorts of wild ideas about in the air nowadays,” said Mr. Sparrow; “it don’t do to listen to everybody.” “And it don’t do to sit still and do nothing, neither,” snapped Mrs. Sparrow. “I don’t want to forget I'm a lady, but—well, any man who was a man could see things for himself.” “Why did I ever marry?” retorted Mr. Spar- row. They flew away together, quarreliing. . Copyrright, 1904, by Central News and Press Exchangs.