Chapter 5: Robbie

Robbie came to both shows again tonight -- again without Sparrow. He perched in the front row -- and sent the most wonderful seed pods backstage. I asked him not to do it again, though. Between Sparrow and Brawler, I hate to think of the fuss if they find out. And it was all I could do to get the gossips not to write about it. 

Chapter 6: Murder Most Fowl

CLIPPING: Murder Most Fowl

The city was shocked today by a senseless murder among the birderati. Cock Robin, the dynamic pilot and author, was shot to death by an arrow through the heart this morning as he was leaving the funeral of the popular cockfighter, "The Barnyard Brawler." Mr. Robin had escorted his recent bride, the celebrated actress, La Pulcina Piccola to pay their respects to the fallen pugilist who recently suffered his tragic death in the ring. It was common knowledge that La Pulcina Piccola and the Brawler had been more than just friends. Now she has lost not one friend but two. Police are investigating the Sparrow's whereabouts at the time of the murder. 

Le Matin

Chapter 7: To sea

I have to get out of here. Today I bought a boat. The Wet Hen will be outfitted by week's end and then I will be off.

Chapter 8: The Wishbone


I am locked in the hold, a tiny porthole my only source of light and air. I, who sailed the vast blue sea aboard my own stout little boat, now languish, locked in the dark, dank hold of the infamous Wishbone. Yet, my prison is also my salvation.

The fearsome pirates scratching about on deck above me are generous enough with food and water. I am grateful to be alive. And I have found paper and pen stowed here, so I can pass the time by writing.

Chapter 9: Il Pollo del Mare

Pete, the craggy parrot, released me from the hold. He has been my jailer since the Wishbone rescued me some days ago.

I was permitted a turn on deck for air and exercise, and how wonderful it was to be out-of-doors again!  From the tiny port hole in my cabin below I can see little but a patch of sky. But there, on deck, I reveled in the vast expanse of sea, and wondered idly how far we had come from my little Wet Hen's wreck, now resting on the sea floor.

Today I did get to meet the crew and the Wishbone's famous captain. Il Pollo del Mare is as handsome as I'd heard and far kinder than I thought he would be. He is quite charming really. I am invited to dine at his table tonight!