  Aunt Patty lives in a little bit of a house. It has only two rooms. In summer it is covered with vines—grapevines, morning glories and flowering beans. It is cosey as a bird’s nest and it is brimful of pets. The kittens look up at the birds PANSY AND PICKWICK PAY A VISIT TO THE BIRDS. Then, when you opened the door, a sharp little voice would say “Good-morning! walk in.” That is the gray parrot, Nick. As you walked into the kitchen, Pansy and Pickwick would come up to you and purr, and put up their heads to be rubbed. In one window you would see two canaries in a cage. In the other would be a cage full of gay little African birds. If it were winter there would be a cage of big birds. But in summer aunt Patty keeps these big birds in the garden near the woodhouse. GYPSY. Where did aunt Patty get so many pets? They were given to her. Everybody knows that she likes pets. A sailor cousin once brought her a turtle. It is quite big enough for you to ride on. This turtle lives in the cellar in the winter, and in the garden in the summer. Somebody sent her a small alligator once, but she did not keep it. She likes pretty pets. “Do your pets ever quarrel?” I asked aunt Patty once. “Never,” said aunt Patty. “Pansy and Pickwick, and the birds and Gypsy, and Methusaleh are all good friends.” Methusaleh is the turtle. |
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