"Our visit has been a success, though it wasn't Newport, hey, Nelly?" said Kitty, as they rumbled away in the big omnibus. "Oh, yes! I've had a lovely time, and mean to come next summer and bring another Jane, to go halves with me; it gives such a relish to one's fun somehow," answered Nelly, contentedly tying on her last year's hat. "Old clothes, wholesome pleasures and a charitable deed are all the magic that has made your month so happy and so helpful," said Mary, putting an affectionate arm about the shoulders in the now faded jacket. "And good friends; don't forget to add that," answered Nelly, with a grateful kiss. VII. LITTLE NEIGHBORS. TWITTER THE FIRST. "Mamma, I do wish I had a nice, new play. Can't you make me one?" said Bertie, pensively surveying the soles of his shoes, as he lay flat on his back with his heels in the air. "No, dear, I couldn't possibly stop now, for I must write my letters, or they won't be in time, and papa will be disappointed." "Then I wish I had somebody to play with me! A jolly little chap who would amuse me and make me laugh," continued Bertie, and, dropping his legs, he lay for a moment, looking as if he really did need a playmate very much. "Tweet! tweet!" said a little voice, in such a brisk tone that the boy stared about him eager to see who spoke. One pane of the long window that opened on the balcony was fixed like a door, so that the room might be ventilated. This pane stood open, and perched upon its threshold was a sparrow peering in with an inquisitive air, and a bold "Tweet! tweet!" as if he said,-- "Here's a little friend all ready to play with you." "Oh, mamma, see the cunning bird! He wants to come in! Don't stir, and may be he'll hop down and eat the crumbs of my luncheon on the table. It's Cocky Twitters; I know him by his tail, with only two feathers in it, and his twinkling eye, and his little fat body," cried Bertie, lying as still as a statue, and looking with delight at the new-comer. You see Bertie lived near a square where many English sparrows had their homes, and all winter the kind child fed his little neighbors. Day after day he strewed crumbs in the balcony, and day after day the birds came to peck them gratefully, or to fly away with the big bits to their nests. So they learned to know and love and trust each other, and the passers-by often saw a pretty sight up in the sunny balcony where the delicate boy stood with his feathered friends about him; some at his feet, some on his shoulders, some boldly stealing crumbs from his basket, and the more timid hopping about on the wide balustrade, catching such stray mouthfuls as reached them.