74 The Story of Scraggles 



with her on the desk. If I am away, I inva- 

 riably find her on my return, if she is not 

 eating, roosting on the edge of a pair of extra 

 shoes of mine that always stand in the study. 

 When she nestles beside my hand and 

 folds her head under her wing, she loves to 

 have me take the upper part of her head 

 between my finger and thumb and gently rub 

 and caress it, and she makes no effort to re- 

 move it, but goes on apparently sleeping as 

 before." 



I wanted to hear his voice and feel the 

 warmth of his hands and those delicious 

 little hugs he gave me when he squeezed 

 me just enough to tell me how much he 

 loved me. And he seemed to under- 

 stand it all so well, just how sick a 

 little bird felt. When he took me out 

 of doors he kept me from the cold with 

 his large, loving hands, and yet let the 

 sun shine on me. Twice he made me 



