THE STORY OF LITTLE BlLLEE--( Con /i?iut'd /row page 44). 



window or play about on the floor for 

 an hour at a time, and never think of 

 flying out of the window or going out 

 of the door. 



I have succeeded far l^eyond my 

 expectations with Taffy and Little 

 Billee. It hurt me very much to be 

 obliged to punish Taffy when he would 

 spring at Little Billee, as Taffy and I 

 had been devoted to each other for two 

 years; still I did not want him to kill 

 my baby bird. One day Little Billee 

 was sitting on my knee dressing 

 his feathers and going through all 

 sorts of antics, while Taffy sat a 

 few feet away gazing at him with 

 longing eyes. I called to my maid to 

 bring Taffy and hold him on her lap, 

 and then let Little Billee peck and bite } 

 his paws, ears, and nose, and a more | 

 astonished cat I never saw. After we 1 

 let Taffy go he was found sitting on 

 the cellar stairs in a most dejected way 

 rubbing his nose with his paw. For 

 several days we did the same thing 

 until Taffy was afraid at sight of Little 

 Billee. One morning Taffy came to 

 bed with me, and lay on my arm while 

 Little Billee sat on my shoulder. Soon 

 Taffy put his chin on my chin, and Lit- 

 tle Billee came and sat close to my 

 cheek. Finally Taffy became so sleepy 

 he turned over, went fast asleep, and 

 Little Billee hopped down on his back, 

 and we lay that way for some time. 

 Since then almost every day Taffy will 

 lie on my lap, and Little Billee will sit 

 on his head, back, or on my knee and 

 dress his feathers. One day Little Bil- 

 lee had the impertinence, while I had 

 them both cfri my lap, to reach out and 

 peck Taffy in the eye. That was a lit- 

 tle more than Taffy could endure, and 

 he reached out his paw and struck at 

 him. For over a week I could not get 

 Little Billee to go near him, but now 

 they are very good friends. 



Little Billee enjoys going down 

 into the parlors to see visitors, but he 

 gives them to understand, the first 

 thing, they may look but they must not 

 touch. He will entertain them by hop- 

 ping all over me, kissing me in the 

 mouth and chirping at the top of his 

 voice. When it begins to get dark 



Little Billee does not want to be off 

 from me a minute. If I have him 

 down stairs and put him on the floor he 

 will hop and fly after me from room to 

 room. The other day I left him in the 

 front parlor on a plant jar and went 

 into the dining-room and was gone 

 some little time. When I came back 

 there was no Little Billee to be found. 

 I called him by name and peeped to 

 him, but I could not get an answer. 

 As I went up stairs I called, " Where is 

 my Little Billee?" And he said, chirp, 

 chirp, chirp; and I found him in my 

 room eating his seeds and as happy as 

 possible. 



Since then every da)' when he gets 

 tired of the parlors he goes up stairs, 

 for he seems to think my room is his 

 home. One day I watched him to see 

 how he went. He hopped from step 

 to step. When he reached the top 

 he flew into my room and lighted on 

 the top of his cage. 



Little Billee is certainly not color- 

 blind, for be notices every little change 

 in my dress no matter how slight it is. 

 He had seen me for weeks in only my 

 robe de ?mit, and wrapper. It was piti- 

 able to see him the first time he saw 

 me gowned in a white skirt and blue 

 waist. I had to lie down when I had 

 finished dressing and Little Billee came 

 over to the bed as usual and asked me 

 to take him. I put down my hand, he 

 hopped on my finger, but when he 

 looked up and saw the blue sleeve 

 away he went as if he had been shot 

 out of a cannon. He tried several 

 times but his courage always failed. 

 At last he gave up and went and sat in 

 a chair across the room, and it was two 

 days before he really liked the change. 

 Next I tried a pink waist with the 

 white skirt, but that seemed even worse 

 to him, which seemed very strange, as 

 he had seen me for days in a pink and 

 white wrapper. 



My numerous friends will vouch for 

 the veracity of the story, as they all 

 think Little Billee is the most wonderful 

 bird they have ever seen. I only hope 

 my little sketch, told just as the things 

 have come to me, will give similar 

 pleasure to other invalids. 



