THE STORY OF NAN 



edges, to nip out small pieces just for the fun of hear- 

 ing it tear; or when brushed from that perch, fly to 

 my head and once more gleefully rattle the hairpins 

 to the floor. To drum on the fire-screen with her bill 

 was another of her diversions, and to catch a stray fly 

 on the window pane an unfailing pastime; a dead fly 

 was no treat to her, but a live one she ate with relish. 



She was shy with men but would go to most women, 

 although she well distinguished the maid Kate and 

 me. Colors she discerned, white clothes she infinitely 

 preferred probably because she first became ac- 

 customed to them. It took me a long time to induce 

 her to alight on my shoulder after I put on black. 

 She displayed a fine taste for form, too; well ac- 

 quainted as she was with my clumsy down wrapper she 

 loathed it so that she would not come near it. Big 

 bulky objects frightened her, and when Kate would 

 enter the room carrying many gowns over her arm or a 

 petticoat held aloft, Nan would fly to the farthest cor- 

 ner. The disorder of packing distressed her, she would 

 dash back and forth across the room in such a panic 



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