Penelope and the Others Part 22

So he went on with his lessons in silence, but by the time the hour came for him to go away, he had said the words over so often to himself that they seemed to come out without any effort of his own.

"Please, sir, have you lost the jackdaw?"

The doctor looked across the table. There was Ambrose's eager little face all aglow with sympathy and interest.

"I'm afraid so," he answered. "And what I fear is, that he has flown out of the window into the road. There is no trace of him in the garden."

"Was his wing cut?" inquired Ambrose, drawing nearer and looking up at the empty cage.

The doctor shook his head.

"Then, you see," said Ambrose gravely and instructively, "it'll be much more difficult to find him. He can fly ever so far, and even if he wanted to get back he might lose his way. Jackdaws always ought to have their wings cut."

"Ought they?" said the doctor humbly. He and his pupil seemed to have changed places. It was now Ambrose who took the lead, for he felt himself on firm ground.

"We lost two that hadn't got their wings cut," he continued, "so now we always cut their wings."

The doctor listened with the greatest respect, and seemed to weigh the matter in his mind. Then he said rather uncertainly:

"But how about the cats?"

Ambrose admitted that danger, but was still sure of his first point. It was best to cut a jackdaw's wing.

"I wonder," he said, looking at the other window, "if you're quite sure he's not in the garden. P'r'aps he's up in some tree."

The doctor shook his head.

"The garden has been thoroughly searched," he said. "There are very few trees there."

"Might I look?" asked Ambrose eagerly. Dr Budge meekly led the way into his little garden. Certainly there was not much room in it for the jackdaw to hide, and it only needed a glance to see that he was not there. The only possible place was in a large old medlar-tree which stood in the middle of the gra.s.s plot, with a wooden bench and table under it. It was nearly bare of leaves now, and a few sparrows were hopping about in its branches. Ambrose turned his eyes to the roof of a barn which ran along one side of the garden.

"P'r'aps he's flown over into the farm-yard," he said.

"I sent there early this morning," replied the doctor dejectedly, "and no one had seen the bird."

Big and learned as he was, he looked so cast, down that Ambrose forgot that he had ever been afraid of him, and only desired to give him comfort and help.

"Does he know the garden well?" he asked.

Dr Budge nodded. "His cage has often hung in the medlar-tree in the summer," he said, "when I've been sitting out here."

"Let's hang it there now," said Ambrose, "and p'r'aps if he gets hungry he'll come back to where he's been fed."

The doctor seemed a little cheered by this suggestion, and with Ambrose's help the cage was soon fixed in a good position in the medlar-tree, where the jackdaw could not fail to see it if he came back.

All his favourite delicacies in the shape of food were then placed in it, and by this time it was long past Ambrose's usual hour for going home.

As they said good-bye, Dr Budge's eyes rested on him with a new expression. Ambrose felt sure he would never mistake him for David again, and would have confidence in his opinion for the future, at any rate about jackdaws. All the way home his mind was busy with plans for getting back the lost bird.

CHAPTER TEN.

A FRIEND IN NEED.

Ambrose told the story of the doctor's jackdaw at dinner-time to Miss Grey, Nancy, and David, who were all very much interested. The two latter began at once to recall memories of all the jackdaws who had lived at the Vicarage.

"Do you remember the one which flew away in the gale?" said Nancy.

"David doesn't, of course. The wind blew the roof right off his house in the night, and we never saw him again."

"The next one was the one which swallowed a thimble," said David--"and died. And then mother said we mustn't have any more jackdaws. I remember that one."

"No," corrected Nancy, "that wasn't the next. The next was the one which got away for three days, and then the postman brought it back.

Then came the one that swallowed the thimble, and then, the day after mother had said we were not to have another there came a strange one to Andrew's cottage, and he brought it here for us."

There was a little dispute about the order in which the jackdaws came, which led the conversation quite away from the doctor's loss. But after dinner, when the children were in the garden, Ambrose began to talk of it again.

"I wish," he said to David, "we could think of a way to help him to get it back."

David did not answer at first. He was looking at Andrew, who was sweeping the path at a little distance. Swish, swish, went his broom to right and left amongst the yellow leaves, leaving a bare s.p.a.ce in the middle.

"Let's ask Andrew," said David suddenly.

Fortunately Andrew was in a good temper, and though he did not leave off sweeping he listened to the story with attention.

"We want your advice," said Ambrose when he had done.

Andrew stopped his broom for an instant, took off his tall black hat, and gazed into its depths silently.

"I should try a call-bird, master," he said as he put it on again.

"A call-bird?" repeated both the boys together.

Andrew nodded.

"Put a similar bird in a cage near to where t'other one used to be," he said, "and like enough it'll call the old un back."

The boys looked at him with admiration. They had a hundred questions to ask about call-birds, and Andrew's experience of them, but they soon found that it was of no use to try to make him talk any more. Andrew had said his say, and now he wanted to get on with his work.

"Isn't that a splendid thought?" said Ambrose as he and David turned away. "I shall take Jack over with me to-morrow morning in a basket, and put him into Dr Budge's cage."

"How do you suppose he'll call him back?" said David, who had become deeply interested. "P'r'aps he'll be miles and miles away."

"Well, if he can't hear he won't come," answered Ambrose; "but he may be quite near home, and only have lost his way."

"May I go with you?" was David's next question.

Ambrose hesitated. He felt that he would much rather have the whole thing in his own hands.

"You might let me help to carry him as far as the gate," pursued David.