“Where is it--over in the fireplace?” Mrs. Anderson, with a tread that made the boards complain under her, went over and pulled the screen away, with large competent hands. “Ugh! How I despise little naked birds!” she ejaculated. “Here, where’s the cat?” “Oh, I don’t want the cat to get it.” “Yes, you do. There ain’t a thing else to do. Here, kitty! Puss, puss, puss!” “But I tell you I don’t want--” “Yes you do, too, Julie. Here, kitty, kitty! You _got_ to do it, Julie! There ain’t another thing to do with ’em. Pus-sie! Puss, puss!” Julie’s big black cat came running in on soft eager feet. “Here, pussie!” Mrs. Anderson called. “No, don’t! Please don’t!” Julie begged. “Scat! scat out of here, Blackie!” But as the cat paused in the doorway, looking uncertainly from one to the other, half crouched, with green eyes glinting and tail lashing, Mrs. Anderson dragged it forward by the scruff of the neck, and in an instant the combination was effected. There was a pounce, a last shriek of supreme agony from the fledgling, and with a growl the cat ran out of the room, the bird in its mouth. Julie leaned against the counter, swallowing convulsively. “Julie! for mercy sake! you know that was the onliest thing to do. When they come down the chimney like that, you just have to give ’em to the cat. There ain’t another thing _to_ do.” “I--I might have tried to raise it,” Julie said, weakly. “No, you could not,” Mrs. Anderson retorted. “You don’t know what to feed it; an’ even s’posing you did, you ain’t got time to waste pokin’ fishin’ worms down a nasty little naked bird’s throat--specially now in the war when our boys needs every single thing we can do for ’em.” “I know, but--” “Well, but what?” “It sounded so awful when the cat got it!” “Julie! I never did see any person take things as hard as you do. I reckon it’s because you’re so thin. Just look at your arms!” Mrs. Anderson took one of Julie’s hands, and pushed the loose sleeve up above her elbow. “Looks about the size of a toothpick to me. If you were fleshier, things wouldn’t get to you so quick. Look at me, now,” she commanded, drawing up her frank proportions. “Things have to go through about six inches of grease ’fore they can reach me. But you--why you’re pretty near as naked to the world as that nasty little chimney-swallow. You can’t go through life like that. Oh, it’s all right for a real young girl, but you must be over thirty; it’s time you was featherin’ up, dearie.” Julie snapped off the light in silence, and they passed out of the shop.