Then I saw Miss Patricia pass through the hall with her bonnet on, going out for a morning walk, and I thought it would be a fine time for me to explore her room.  It is full of interesting things that I had never been permitted to touch, for when the boys were allowed to take me into Miss Patricia’s room, it was always on condition that I should be made to play little Jack Horner and sit in some corner under a chair or table.

So as soon as the door closed behind her I hurried up-stairs to her room.  I had the best time that morning.  There were all sorts of little bottles on her wash-stand with good-smelling stuff in them.  I pulled out the corks and emptied some of the bottles into the bowl to make that smell good, too.  Then I washed my teeth with her little silver-handled toothbrush, just as Phil does every morning, and put the sponges to soak in the water-pitcher.

After awhile I found the cut-glass vinaigrette that Miss Patricia carries around with her.  I have seen her use it a hundred times at least, tipping back the silver lid, taking out the little glass stopper, and holding it to her nose with the remark that she never smelled more refreshing salts.  I have wanted very much to try it myself.  So now that I had the chance I did just as she does,—­tipped back the lid, pulled out the stopper, and took a long, deep smell.  Whew!  It almost upset me.  I thought it must be fire and brimstone that she had bottled up in there.  It brought the tears to my eyes, and took my breath for a minute so I had to sit and gasp.  Then I dropped the vinaigrette in the slop-jar and jumped down from the wash-stand.

[Illustration:  I sat down on the pincushion.]

Her high, old-fashioned bureau tempted me next.  There were rows and rows of pins in a big blue pincushion, put in as evenly as if it had been done by a machine.  I pulled them out, one by one, and dropped them down behind the bureau.  It took some time to do that, but at last the blue cushion was empty, and I sat down on it to examine the jewel-case at my leisure.  I found the prettiest things in it; an open-faced locket, set around with pearls, with the picture of a beautiful young girl in it; a string of bright coral beads, and a little carnelian ring, and a gold dollar hung on a faded ribbon.

I forgot to tell you that Miss Patricia’s bay window is full of flowers, and that she has a mocking-bird hanging in a cage above the wire stand that holds her ferns and foliage plants.  The mocking-bird’s name is Dick.  Now Dick hadn’t paid any attention to me until I opened the jewel-case.  As I did so I knocked a hairbrush off the bureau to the floor, which must have frightened him, for he began to cry out as if something had caught hold of him.  Then he whistled, as if he were calling a dog.  You have no idea what a racket he made.  I was afraid that some of the servants might hear him and come to see what was the matter.  Then, of course, I would be turned out of the room before I had finished examining all the pretty things.  I turned around and shook my fist at him and chattered at him as savagely as I knew how, but he kept on, first making that hoarse cry and then whistling as if calling to a dog.