he regarded the scene with dilated eyes. “Why—why—it’s nobody, nothing but dear old Tom!” “It’s an eagle! The first——” “Of course, he’s an eagle. Aren’t you, [Pg 41]dear? The most splendid bird in Maine, or maybe Canada. The wisest, the most loving, the—— Oh! You big blundering precious thing! Scaring people like that. You should be more civil, sir.” [Pg 41] “Is—is—he tame?” “Tame as a pet chicken. But mischievous. He wouldn’t hurt you for anything.” “Humph! He would have killed me if I hadn’t waked and yelled.” “Well, you did that surely. You feel better, don’t you?” “I wish you’d put him outdoors, or shut him up where he belongs. I want to sit down.” “There’s no reason why you shouldn’t,” she answered, pushing a chair toward him. “Where did you get it—that creature?” “Uncle found him when he was ever so young. Somebody or something, a hunter or some other bird, had hurt his wing and one foot. Eagles can be injured by the least little blow upon their wings, you know.” [Pg 42] [Pg 42] “No. I know nothing about them—yet. But I shall, some day.” “Oh! I hope so. They’re delightful to study. Tom is very large, we think. He’s nearly four feet tall, and his wings—— Spread your wings, sir! Spread!” Margot had dropped upon the floor before the wide fireplace, her favorite seat. Her arms clasped her strange pet’s body while his white head rested lovingly upon her shoulder. His eyes were fixed upon the blazing logs and his yellow irises gleamed as if they had caught and held the dancing flames. But at her command he shook himself free, and extended one mighty wing, while she stretched
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