The first day he was occupied in obtaining a boarding place, and in matters connected with the play. He understood his duty to his employers, and, eager as he was to seek out Ralph Harding, he waited till he could do so without intrenching upon their time.

 

After considerable inquiry² he found himself standing³ in front of a neat-looking frame house of two stories in a quiet street. The plate on the front door bore the name

 

CLIFTON.

 

Bert rang the bell.

 

The door was opened by a girl about twelve years of age.244

 

"Is Mrs. Clifton at home?" asked Bert.

 

"Yes, sir. Won't you walk in?"

 

She led the way into a tiny parlor⁴, so small that the owner would have found it difficult to give a fashionable party, or indeed any party at all.

 

"Sit down here," said the young girl, pointing to a rocking-chair, "and I will call ma."

 

Bert took a seat, and was startled a minute later by a hoarse⁵ voice saying, with much energy, "Get out, you tramp!"

 

He looked around the room in angry amazement⁶, but could see no one.

 

Directly afterward⁷ he heard a discordant⁸ laugh, and, guided by the sound, looked up to see that it proceeded from a green parrot in a cage above his head.

 

Bert smiled. It was impossible for him to be angry with a parrot, however impolite the bird might be.

 

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