A Street Troubadour 



i_ 



of late both these ideas had been badly shaken. 

 Biddy found that his education had been sadly 

 neglected in all useful matters, and in each new 

 kind of material she had to instruct him anew. 



When the nest was two thirds finished, Biddy, 

 whose ideas were quite luxurious, began to 

 carry in large soft feathers. But now Randy 

 thought this was going too far. He must draw 

 the line somewhere. He drew it at feather beds. 

 His earliest cradle had had no such lining. He 

 proceeded to bundle out the objectionable fea- 

 ther bedding, and Biddy, returning with a new 

 load, was just in time to see the first lot float 

 downward from the door to join the stick pile 

 below. She fluttered after them, seized them in 

 the air, and returned to meet her lord coming 

 out of the door with more of the obnoxious 

 plumes, and there they stood, glaring at each 

 other, chattering their loudest, their mouths 

 full of feathers, and their hearts full of indigna- 

 tion. 



How is it that when it is a question of home 

 furnishing we sympathize with the female? I 

 felt that Biddy had first right, and in the end 

 she got her way. First there was a stormy 



118 



MMv*. 



