Merle would not have forgotten.

Probably Mr.Sharon Whipple, having found him wanting in polish, would never speak to him again.

But Sharon did, for a week later, when Wilbur passed him where he had stopped the cutter in River Street, the old man not only hailed him, but called him Buck.

From his hearty manner of calling, "Hello, there, Buck!" it seemed that he had decided to overlook the past.
* * * * * The advent of the following summer was marked by two events of importance; Mouser, the Penniman cat, after being repeatedly foiled throughout the winter, had gained access to the little house on a day when windows and doors were open for cleaning, stalked the immobile blue jay, and falling upon his prey had rent the choice bird limb from limb, scattering over a wide space wings, feathers, cotton, and twisted wire.
Mouser had apparently found it beyond belief that so beautiful a bird should not be toothsome in any single part.

But the discoverer of this sacrilege was not horrified as he would have been a year before.