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365 bedtime stories

Chapter 279: OCTOBER 6: Trixie’s Burglar
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About This Book

A year-long anthology of short, child-focused tales presenting one brief story for each day, blending animal fables, household incidents, seasonal scenes, and gentle fantasy. Stories are arranged by calendar day and often reflect the moods and activities of the seasons, holidays, and everyday childhood experiences. Narratives favor simple plots, quiet humor, and mild moral lessons suitable for bedtime reading, frequently featuring talking creatures, helpful fairies, and small domestic adventures. Numerous small illustrations accompany the text, reinforcing the warm, comforting tone and making the collection convenient to read aloud or share with young listeners.

OCTOBER 6: Trixie’s Burglar

“It was night time and Trixie the parrot,” said daddy, “had her head under her wing. Sometimes she slept this way, just as a canary bird would sleep. But often she would huddle up on her perch and doze off with her head drooping down a little on her chest.

“All of the family were asleep when Trixie seemed to hear in her dream a strange sound. She pulled her head from under her wing and looked about her with sleepy eyes.

“Did she see some one way off in the corner? Trixie was frightened. She did not quite know why. She was never frightened of people, but this person stayed where it was so dark, and did not light a light—only a little one that flashed quickly and went right out again.

“When her master came downstairs late at night, he always turned on the light. But Trixie thought she had better be polite. This was probably some very queer guest and she must be nice, for all the family were asleep.

“‘Hello,’ said Trixie. The man grumbled to himself. ‘He didn’t answer me,’ thought Trixie. ‘I must speak again.’ And this time she shrieked, ‘Hello.’

“‘Will you keep quiet?’ said the man in a frightened, low voice.

“‘No,’ answered Trixie, ‘never still.’ Now Trixie had said this in a very loud voice, and from upstairs Trixie’s master heard the parrot. ‘She never says that except when some one is here,’ he said, and he went downstairs.

“As he reached the room where the parrot was he saw a man hurrying off—hurrying off before he had had a chance to get anything, for he had spent his time since Trixie had spoken putting a large coat over the parrot’s cage.

“The window had been left open and a burglar had come in, but Trixie, the parrot, had been the cause of his going out.”