38 The Story of Scr aggies 



had a time. He made a barricade of 

 his left hand to protect his writing hand, 

 and tried to keep me away like that, but 

 I showed him how spunky a baby spar- 

 row could be. I pecked at the pen 

 through his ringers, and watched for the 

 least opening, and the moment he gave 

 me a chance, I darted in and seized the 

 pen. Then he tried to shake me off, 

 generally laughing at me, and calling 

 me a queer little birdie all the time, and 

 he even lifted me up while I held on to 

 the pen with my beak, and in that way 

 tried to discourage me from fighting it. 

 But I don't think he ever knew how I 

 disliked that wretched little stick. Why 

 should it be in Fessor's hands all the 

 time? I wanted him to take me in 

 his hands and go out for a walk with 

 me, and I did n't like his spending so 



