The talking bird and wonderful wishes of Jacky and Jean

Front matter

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Chapter I

JEALLY,” said the sparrow, “ I think it would be to your advantage to let me go.”

UlR® Jackv dropped the plump little body in his m m astonishment, and the bird fluttered to the window

sill and blinked up at him with its bright, dark eyes. “What’s the matter?” asked Jean, who had just come in with a battered bird cage, rescued from the cobwebby garret, where it had lain for years. “You looked scared. Fraid cat! It’s only a sparrow.”

“But — but — he spoke to me,” said Jacky, backing discreetly away. “Nonsense!” And Jean, the practical, set the cage down and

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Ube 'Monbeuful Wtsbes of 5ach^ atib 3ean went carefully toward the little bird, her hands softly spread to catch him.

But he fluttered just beyond her reach, shook his head at her and held up one small claw reprovingly as he said, “Not nonsense at all, my dear. I don’t see why a sparrow shouldn’t talk if he pleases. Do you? ”

Jean sat down hard on the floor and Jacky giggled. It was fun to see Jean, who did not believe in fairies at all, and even scoffed at the giant Uncle Tom had showed them at the circus, looking so astonished.

To tell the truth, she was more scared than Jacky.

Jacky believed in all sorts of fairy stories with his whole heart, and would not have been astonished if his oatmeal had wished him “good morning,” or the brass knobs on his bed had nodded a “good night.” He had always known that birds and beasts could speak if they pleased, and had been more surprised than frightened when the sparrow spoke. He was joyful now. But Jean — well, father said he was afraid Jean would grow into a strong minded woman. She didn’t believe in anything that was not ordinary and every-day, and she was never, never afraid in the dark.

It pleased Jacky to think that for once he could be more at his ease than she. So he made a very fine bow, just as his dancing school

Ube Wonberful Mtsbes of 3acfe\> anb 3ean teacher had taught him, and said: “I beg your pardon, Mr. Sparrow. Don’t mind Jean. She’s silly, and doesn’t believe in things, you know, but she means to be nice.”

“ I know, I know,” said the sparrow wisely. “ I’ve been watching Jean for some time, and I’m very sorry for her. In fact, that is the reason I allowed myself to be caught. It’s very sad indeed when little girls don’t like fairy stories.”

“But,” cried Jean, who had found her tongue at last, “they aren’t true — you know they aren’t, and ”

“ Humph,” replied the sparrow, very crustily indeed. “ I suppose you think I’m not real!” And he turned his back on her and demanded that the window be opened. “ People who don’t believe in things they hear about are bad enough,” he sputtered. “ But people who won’t even believe what they see and hear themselves are not to be borne. I’m going away.”

But when he turned his back on Jean he made an unlucky move. She was quite over her astonishment now and with one pounce she had caught him again. Before he could so much as twiddle his toe, she had him tight and fast in the old bird cage.

“Now, then,” she said decidedly, as she sat down and rested her chin on her hands. “Now, then, if you’re a really, truly fairy get out of that cage.”

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The sparrow sputtered with wrath. “ See here,” he exclaimed, “this isn’t fair. As it happens, I’m caught. It’s my own fault if I turned myself into a sparrow, you know, and if I’m foolish enough to get caught while I’m visible to human eyes, I’ve got to take the consequences. I can’t even turn myself back into a fairy while I’m behind these bars. Let me out.”

Jacky’s hand went toward the door, but Jean caught and held it. “In the story books,” she said gravely, “the genii and fairies and things always reward the people who get them out of scrapes. Now, what I want to know is, what are you going to do for us?”

The sparrow forgot how angry he was and laughed till he nearly fell off his perch.

“Frizzle my feathers!” he exclaimed naughtily, “but you’re a sharp child. You’re modern, all right enough. No wonder the children of this generation are so hard to deal with.”

Then he grew sober again, and sat blinking at her with such a wise look, that Jean rubbed her eyes. It almost seemed that he could not be a saucy sparrow. She thought he must have turned into an owl.

“Well,” he said at last, “I’ll reward your brother for his belief in me, and you for your cleverness. What do you want? ”

Jean turned to Jacky. After all, when it came to dealings with fairies he was the one who knew the most, and though she took the

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Ube TOonberful Wishes of Jacfe\> anb Jean lead in nearly everything, she said rather helplessly, “You say, Jacky — what do we want? ”

Jacky swelled with importance, and his forehead tied itself up into a perfect knot of funny little wrinkles.

“Regulation three wishes, I suppose?” said the sparrow. But Jacky shook his head. Though not as practical as Jean, he had an idea of making a good trade, too.

“ No,” he said slowly, “ Pve thought of something lots better. I’ve been reading about genii, you know, and they always come when people rub things — lamps or rings generally — and the people who saved them keep on getting wishes right along. They don’t have to do all their wishing at once. Now, I’d like that. Can’t we call you whenever we please? ”

The sparrow gave a rather exasperating little laugh.

“You’re driving a pretty shrewd bargain,” he said sharply, “but — what could you rub? I certainly haven’t any old pots or lamps or rings hanging about, and I don’t see many here.”

Jacky and Jean looked blank a moment. Then Jacky had an idea.

“The cage!” he exclaimed. “That’s it. Whenever we rub that cage, why you come and give us what we want. That’s the way to fix it.”

“Oh, indeed!” and the sparrow laughed rather sarcastically.

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But Jean was holding fast to Jacky, so he could not open the cage before the bargain was made, and he saw no other way out of his trouble.

“Very well,” he said, “there’s one thing at least; I’ll have made Jean know that it’s possible to be too practical. She’ll have to believe in fairy tales by the time she gets through with me. What’s your first wish? Tell it, and let’s have things over. I’ve an engagement with my tailor down Spiderweb lane in half an hour. What can I do for you? ”

Jacky and Jean put their heads together.

“ It’s too late to wish ourselves anywhere tonight,” said Jacky, wistfully. “ Dinner’ll be ready soon, and I’m tired. Let’s wish for father to have us down to dessert, give us lots of ice cream and a dime apiece. How’s that?”

Jean nodded. She would have liked a wish a little more out of the ordinary, just to prove what the sparrow could do; but she felt that there were plenty of times coming. “All right,” she said, and the wish was repeated to their prisoner.

“ That sounds to me like three wishes in one,” he said. “ But it’s all right. Now, then, open the door and shut your eyes.”

“ Oh, but we want to see you when you’re not a sparrow,” wailed

Jacky. “We want to see your wings and your- ”

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The sparrow interrupted him. “You don’t know that I’m a fairy at all,” he said sharply. “ I may be a wicked genii, or an ogre, or a haunted giant. You can’t tell. And I shan’t let you know. Whatever I am really, I’ll be nothing but a sparrow to you. Shut your eyes tight, or I’ll order bread pudding for your dinner instead of ice cream, send your father to his club, and see that he doesn’t give you a cent from the day before the day after yesterday. Quick!”

Jacky shot out his arm, pulled open the door of the cage and clapped one hand over his eyes and one over Jean’s.

There was a flutter, a twitter, a laugh that was rather loud, and then silence. They peeped through their fingers and the cage was empty.

Chapter II

Uhc fin 6 of tbe first Misb anb tbe Beginning of tbe Seeonb

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ACKY and Jean lived in the top of a very big house near the city. Their nursery was pretty and bright, with Mother Goose pictures chasing each other all around the wall, big, low window seats and a long bookcase filled with all sorts of books, from those they had had when they were very small babies two and three years old, to those that were appropriate now, when they were eight and nine.

But it was lonesome up there, nevertheless; for, you see, mother was away. She had had to go south, because she was not strong, and the doctor had said she could not take the children, for she must have no noise or worry at all. And grandma had gone with her, and father

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— well, father was very busy. He came up every evening before his dinner time and talked to them a little, and if he had no company he would send for them to come down when he had his dessert, and they always liked that. But generally they were alone all day with Rachel. Rachel was Zillah’s sister, and Zillah was the cook. She had been with mother ever since mother was married, but Rachel did not come till Jacky did, and that fact always made it hard for him to understand why she was any older. Then there was Maryan- Martha. Not Mary Ann Martha, but Mary “ and ” Martha. Zillah, who was the girl’s mother, always explained that she and her husband could not agree which name it should be, and so she was christened with both, and nobody ever thought of shortening them, except to leave out the “ d ” at the end of “ and.”

MaryanMartha was very young, if you looked at her with Zillah’s eyes, or even Rachel’s. If you looked at her as Jacky and Jean saw her, she was like other grown folks, and very tall, and very black. She waited on table and pretended not to notice when Jacky or Jean spilled things on the cloth, or took more cake than they were told they might. For which things they deeply loved her.

And then, what games she could play! Rachel was too dignified to play games, though she could tell good stories. The only trouble was that Jacky and Jean did not agree as to the kind of stories.

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Jacky preferred tales of fairies and giants, elves, pixies, ghosts — anything and everything that was calculated to make his thick yellow hair stand on end with fright when he got between the sheets at night. While Jean, as practical as her two tight little pale-brown braids, said such stories were bosh, and wanted to know what Rachel and Zillah did “down south” when they were two little pickaninnies, and helped look after mother, who was just a little baby then, and did the most interesting things.

It was Rachel who let them know that the first wish granted them by the Mysterious Sparrow had come true. For she came upstairs very cross, and said she had made a peach pie for dessert, and it had burned, and Zillah was having to order ice cream over the telephone. “An’ your pa cornin’ home after all, though he said this noon he couldn’t,” she went on, yvhile the children wriggled with delight.

“I told you so,” whispered Jacky to Jean, who had had a fit of non-belief after the disappearance of the sparrow.

“My!” and Jean’s eyes grew big and round, like brown saucers. “ Just think how hard we’ll have to imagine something to ask next time. I can’t think of anything in particular, can you?”

“ In fairv stories they always wish for money,” said Jacky, the wise, “but father’s got plenty. I guess that’s what’s the matter with us.

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I heard Miss Higgenbotham tell mother we’d be happier if we were poor. We might wish to be poor, just for a change.”

“Yes,” said Jean excitedly. “I’ve always just longed to sweep off the front steps with a little, red-handled broom, the way the little girl in the next street does — you know, we can just see the house through Rachel’s window. But Rachel gets angry if I even try to watch her do it, let alone doing it myself. I think it would be fun to wish for things like that. They’re what Uncle Tom calls adventures, aren’t they?”

“ I guess so,” answered Jacky, as Rachel descended upon him, and bore him off to get on a clean suit and a particularly broad stiff collar and a bow that tickled his chin. “ Anyhow, we’ll wish for adventures, and we’ll be bound to get something.”

“Whatever are you talking about?” said Rachel. “You chillun are de greatest! You-all’s even wuss den yo’ ma.” And after she had sent them down stairs, neat and clean and trim, she shook her head over their queer ways, and wished she had them down south where their mother was little, so they could be natural, healthy children.

Meantime the children were having a fine time down stairs. Father was full of fun, and joked with them while they ate their ice cream, and he hid their dimes in the funniest places, and made them hunt them out. Two or three times Jacky came near telling him

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Ube Wonberful Misbcs of 3acb£ anb Jean about their wonderful visitor of the afternoon, but he was a little bit shy. He was afraid his father would laugh at him. As for Jean, it never entered her head to tell. She was still an unbeliever, and would have felt as if she was telling stories outright, to say anything about the matter till it seemed much more certain than it did now, although the ice cream, still sliding down her pink throat in smooth, cool mouthfuls, and the dime making a round red spot in her tightly clenched little fist, seemed proof enough that it was all true.

They were so tired when they went up to bed that they did not talk much about their wishes, but in the morning both heads popped up at the same minute, and instead of the usual “ good morning” that went from one white bed to the other, both cried, “What shall we wish?” and when they tumbled out of bed and into their clothes, Jean was quite as excited as Jacky.

The first thing was to get rid of Rachel. Naturally, they couldn’t go wishing around, rubbing bird cages and receiving visits from talkative sparrows, when she was anywhere near. But it was housecleaning time and Rachel was only too glad of their promise to take care of themselves, while she went to help and to superintend the work of Mrs. George Washington Caesar Tompkins, who had been hired for the occasion.

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No sooner was she out of sight than Jean ran to the window seat where they had hidden the cage, and brought it out.

“ Let’s both rub, Jacky,” she said. “Yes, and shut our eyes,” answered Jacky. “ You know, he didn’t like to have us see him go, and very likely he’d feel a little delicate about appearing if we looked.”

“ Humph! I don’t see why he should,” said Jean, but nevertheless she shut her eyes so tight they were quite lost in a nest of tiny wrinkles, and both rubbed hard at the bars of the battered cage.

Not a sound did they hear. Nothing seemed to happen.

“There,” cried Jean, with a disappointed note in her voice, though she tried to seem triumphant, “ I told you it was all a mistake or a dream, or something. I knew there weren’t any fairies or ogres or

giants — especially haunted ones. I knew it wasn’t ” But as her

eyes got well open she stopped. For, sitting on the perch of the cage, half asleep, and much rumpled as to feathers, sat a round little sparrow.

“Hush,” cried Jacky, “don’t talk so or he’ll go away. Oh, Jean, how could you?” For the sparrow was paying not the slightest attention to them.

“I didn’t mean it,” said Jean apologetically. “Indeed, I didn’t, Mr. Sparrow. Please forgive me — and talk. Oh, do please talk!”

The sparrow gave a low little laugh. “ 1 thought I’d taught you

Zb e Wonberful Wishes of Jacfc\> anb Jean better,” he said. “ Didn’t everything come out as per order last evening? Yes? I thought so. What do you want today? Diamonds, I suppose, and money, ponies and all sorts of things like that.”

“No,” said Jean stoutly, “we don’t. Mother has diamonds, and we each have a pony. We want to wish for adventures.”

The sparrow stopped looking sleepy, and sat up very straight. “Well, well,” he said with an approving nod, “you are original, clever children. What do you want to do first?”

“ Be pirates,” said Jacky.

“Be poor,” said Jean.

The sparrow laughed till he fell off the perch, and had to pick himself up and straighten his feathers.

“Try again,” he said. “You both spoke at once, and asked different things. If one had wished first, or both had wished the same thing — but try again. Plenty of time. I don’t mind these feathers. They’re quite cozy,” and he settled down for a sun bath, while Jacky and Jean fell to squabbling over their wish, which was of course very naughty, and very thoughtless, too. They should have had their minds all made up before they rubbed the cage.

“Oh, dear!” cried Jean finally, in a temper, “I wish you were just like that bolster over there. Then I could have my own way. I wish ” but as she spoke things turned dark around them a mo-

Ube Memberful Mtsbes of 3acb\> anb 3cm ment. “ Only one wish at a time, if you please, madam,” said a very firm voice. And as Jean realized what that wish had been she rushed toward the little gilt cage trying to close the door, and crying at the top of her voice, “No, no. Oh, please! I didn’t mean that wish — I didn’t mean it at all.”

But it was too late. The cage was empty, and the sunlight was already beginning to fill every corner of the room.

The second wish had begun.