Featherland, or How the Birds lived at Greenlawn, by George ManvilleFenn. 

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As he explains in the last paragraph the book was written for theamusement of two little girls who were fond of leaning up against hisknee, and asking him to tell them a story. Fenn was a very goodnaturalist, and I feel sure that he enjoyed looking out at the birds onthe lawn, and seeing their reactions to one another. From this he hasgone on to add occasional snatches of English speech, to illustrate tothe girls the way the birds, and a few other animals (the dog, the cat, the bees, a hedgehog, the flies, the wasps), were behaving in eachother's presence. 

On the whole the language is easy, and suitable for young children, butjust occasionally a word slips in such as "gourmandising", which wouldneed explaining to a child. 

I am not much in favour of books that make animals talk as though theywere little human beings, but in this book such language is used only tothe very minimum, just enough to make the animals' activitiesmeaningful. For the rest the birds mostly make their appointed noises. But I did enjoy the skylark's song. And once Fenn had put in one songit was inevitable that he would put in another, for which the bluebottlewas the "singer". NH

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FEATHERLAND; OR, HOW THE BIRDS LIVED AT GREENLAWN, BY GEORGE MANVILLEFENN. 

CHAPTER ONE. 

HOW SPRING WAS COMING. 

"Hallo, old Yellowbill! what's brought you out so early?" said a finefat thrush, one bright spring morning, stopping for a moment to look athis companion, and leaving the great broken-shelled snail he had rootedout of the ivy bush curling about upon the gravel path. "Hallo, oldYellowbill! what's brought you out so early?"

"What's that to you, old snail-crusher?" said the blackbird, for he wasin rather an ill temper that morning, through having had a fright in thenight, and being woke up by old Shoutnight the owl, who had been outmousing and lost his wife, and sat at last in the ivy-tod halloaing andhoo-hooing, till the gardener's wife threw her husband's old boot out ofthe window at him, when he went flop into the laurel bush, and bangedand bounced about, hissing and snapping with his great bill, while hisgoggle eyes glowed so angrily that the blackbird's good lady popped offher nest in a hurry and broke one of her eggs, and, what was worse, wasafraid to go back again till the eggs were nearly cold; and then she wasso cross about it, that although the broken egg was only a bad one, sheturned round upon Flutethroat, her husband, who had been almostfrightened to death, and told him in a pet it was all his fault for notpicking out a better place for the nest. 

So it was no wonder that Flutethroat, the blackbird, turned grumpy whenneighbour Spottleover, the thrush, called him "Yellowbill;" for ofcourse he did not like it any better than a man with a red nose wouldlike to be called Hot-poker. But it was such a fine morning, and therewere so many dew-worms lying out in the cool grass that the neighbourscould not stop to be crabby. So Spottleover flew off with his snail, and Flutethroat soon had hold of a thumping, great worm, and set towork, tug-tug, to draw it from its hole, and then pulled and poked itabout till it was easily to be packed in a knot, when he took it in hisbill and flew off to the laurel bush, where Mrs Flutethroat was busysitting upon four green speckly eggs, and waiting very impatiently forher breakfast. 

Just then the sun cocked one side of his great round face over the hill, and looked down upon Greenlawn garden, where all this took place, andtried to make the dew-drops glitter and shine upon the grass and leaves;but he could not, for Dampall, the mist, was out, and had spread himselfall over the place like a great wet smoke; and for ever so long he wouldnot move, for he did not like the sun at all, because he, as a mist, wasgood friends with the moon, and used to let her beams dance all overhim. But it was a fine spring morning, and the sun had got up in a goodhumour, and had no end of business to get through that day. There wasall the water on the lowlands to drink up; all the little green budsjust coming out on the trees to warm; the bees to waken up and sendhoney-seeking amongst the crocuses, primroses, and violets, that wereall peeping out from amongst last autumn's dead leaves; flies to huntout of crevices where they had been asleep all the winter; and oldBluejacket, the watchman beetle, to wake up from his long doze; as wellas Nibblenut the squirrel, Spikey the hedgehog, and ever so many moreold friends and neighbours; and so, of course, he was not going to beput down by a cold, raw mist. And, "Pooh!" he said, looking sideways atit, and, as he got his face a little higher, right through it, "Pooh!that won't do; you've been up all night, so be off to bed, and don'tthink that I am going to put up with any of your nonsense. You had itall your own way whilst I was busy down south; but I've come back now toset things right; so off you go. "

Whereupon the mist looked as raw and cross as he could, but it was of nouse; so he rolled himself off the lawn, down the hollow, and into thevale, where he hung about over the river ever so long, evidently meaningto come back again; but the sun was after him in a twinkling, and sothere was nothing else for it, and the poor mist crept into a cave bythe river's bank, and went to sleep all day. 

"Hooray!" said the birds when the mist was gone; and all the littlepearly dew-drops were sparkling and twinkling on the grass. The daisyopened his eye and sat watching the grass grow; while the bees--as theirgrand friends, the great flowers, had not yet come to town--came buzzingabout, and carried the news from daisy to daisy that Queen Spring wascoming, and that there were to be grander doings than ever in thegarden. "Hooray!" said the birds, for they knew it too, and they allset to work, singing in the gladness of their hearts to think that oldNiptoes the winter had gone at last, and that there would be plenty toeat, and no more going about with feathers sticking up, and no leaves toshelter anybody by night. 

A fine place was Greenlawn, for there the birds had it all their ownway; not a nest was touched; not a gun was ever seen; and as to powder, the rooks up in the lime-trees never smelt it in their lives; but builttheir great awkward nests, and punched the lawn about till the grubsused to hold consultations together, and at last determined to emigrate, but as no one would come out of the ground to make a start, any morethan a mouse could be found bold enough to put the bell on the cat'sneck as told in the old fable, the grubs stopped there year after year, and had a very, very hard time of it. It was a regular feast-land forthe birds; there were no such buds anywhere else to peck at, for so thetomtits and bullfinches thought; no such strawberries for the blackbirdsand thrushes; and as to the elder-berries down by the pond, thestarlings used to come in flocks to strip them off, and then carelesslyleave ever so many wasting upon the ground. 

"Hooray!" said the birds that morning; and they sang and sang so loudlyand sweetly that the master of the garden opened his window and sat downto listen to them. But they had something else to do besides sing;there was courting, and wedding, and building, and housekeeping, goingon all over the garden. Mr and Mrs Redbreast were just married, andshocking as it may seem, were quarrelling about the place where theyshould live. Mr Robin wanted the snug quarters in the ivy, down by themelon pits; while Mrs Redbreast said it was draughty, and made up hermind to live in the rockery amongst the fern. Mr and Mrs Specklems, the starlings, were very undecided about the hole in the chimney-stack, so much so, that when they had half-furnished it, they altered theirminds and went to the great crack half way up the old cedar, and settledthere; "like a pair of giddy unsettled things, " as the jackdaw said, whomeant to have been their neighbour; but was not above taking possessionof the soft bed they had left behind. As to Spottleover, he, too, wasout of temper all the rest of the day, and when Flutethroat met him inthe afternoon he found his neighbour all smeared with clay, and lookingfor all the world like a clay-dabbing plasterer as he was. 

"There, just look at those wretched little cocktail things, " saidFlutethroat, pointing to the wrens, hard at work at their nest, justwhen the cock bird flew up on to the wall, perked about for a moment, sang his song in a tremendous hurry, and seemed to leave off in themiddle, as he popped down again to his work. 

"Good job, too, " said the thrush; "I wish mine was a cocktail, and thenI shouldn't have had these nobs of clay sticking to it;" saying which heshowed his neighbour three or four little clay-pellets attached to histail-feathers, evidently caught up when fetching his mortar from thepond side. 

"Ah! it's a stupid plan that plastering, " said a conceited-lookingchaffinch, joining in the conversation. "I wonder your children don'tdie of rheumatic gout. "

"Take that for your impudence, you self-satisfied little moss-weaver;"saying which the thrush gave the new-comer such a dig in the back withhis hard bill, that the finch flew off in a hurry, vowing that he wouldpass no more opinions upon other people's building. 

CHAPTER TWO. 

THE STOLEN EGGS. 

Plenty of fine mornings came and went, and busier than ever were all thebirds. Nests had been built; eggs had been laid; little callow birdshad been hatched; and the little mouths wanted so much feeding thatthere was not even time to sing. But there was a good deal ofdiscomfort and unpleasantry abroad, for a young relative of Spottleoverthe thrush had lost three or four eggs from his nest at the bottom ofthe garden. Of course they had been stolen, but who was the culprit? Achattering old sparrow said it was one of the rooks; and when the reportgot up in the rookery there was a fine commotion about it that evening, for the rooks held quite a parliament to vindicate the innocence oftheir order; and at last passed a vote of censure upon the sparrow forhis false accusation; agreed to send him to Coventry; and, as one oldrook said, it would have been much more to his credit to have had hisshirt-front washed, for it was dreadfully dirty, than to have gonemaking the rooks out blacker than they really were. Then someone saidit was the magpie; but he was dreadfully indignant about it, and hislong tail trembled with passion; but he quite cleared his characterbefore he flew back to his nest in the great elm down the field, for ashe very truly said, if the case had been respecting a young bird or two, and times had been very hard, he might have fallen into temptation, andtaken a callow nestling; "but as to eggs, " he said, laying a black pawupon his white waistcoat, "upon his honour, no, not even if they werenew laid. "

And so the eggs kept going, and nobody knew where; for they all feltwhen the magpie said "Tar-tar, " and flew away, that he had spoken openlyand honourably, and was not the thief. At last one evening, when allthe birds were as busy as their old friends the bees, all of a suddenthere was a complete full stop throughout the garden, for from one ofthe low branches of the great cedar someone suddenly shouted out in afull, loud, and distinct voice--"Cuckoo!" and again two or three timesover--"Cuckoo!"

"Halloa!" said Flutethroat, ceasing his worm hunt, "who is that?"

"Cuckoo, " said Spottleover, dropping a snail; "what does that mean?"

And all through the garden there ran a thrill of excitement, for thethrush's cousin flew up to the birds who had collected together, andtold them he had seen the thief in the act of taking an egg, and he hadflown into the cedar-tree. He was a long ugly bird in a stripedwaistcoat, and--

But the narrative was interrupted by the long mellow call of--

"Cuckoo!"

"What's it mean?" chorused the birds. 

"Oh, that's his impudence, " said the old owl, winking and blinking, forhe had been roused out of his sleep by the new call. 

"Come now, that won't do; we don't want you meddling now, oldmousetrap, " said the birds; "none of your night-birds here. " Sayingwhich, they pecked and buffeted old Shoutnight to such a degree that hewas glad to shuffle off to his hole behind the ivied chimney-stack. 

All this while the cry kept coming out of the cedar, "Cuckoo! cuckoo!"

"It's Dutch, " said a greenfinch, looking very knowing. 

"No, it isn't; he comes from Spain, I know, " said the goldfinch. 

"Chiswick, Chiswick, " shouted the sparrow. 

"Tchah, " said the jackdaw. 

"Twit, twit, " said the nuthatch. 

"Little bit o' bread and no cheese, " said the yellowhammer. 

"Ah, we'll `twit' him with his theft, " said the sage old starling; "andit's neither bread nor cheese he'll get here. He's a thief; a cheat;a--"

"Quack, quack, " cried a duck from the pond. 

"Ah! and a quack, " continued the starling, and then he grew so excitedthat the rest of his speech was lost in sputtering, chattering, andfizzing; and all the birds burst out laughing at him, for all his littlesharp shining feathers were standing up all over his head, and he lookedso comical that they could not contain themselves, but kept ontittering, till all of a sudden--

"Cuckoo!" said the stranger, and came right into view. 

"He's a foreigner, " shouted the birds; "give it him;" and away theywent, mobbing the strange bird; flying at him, over him, under him, round and round him, darting in and out in all directions, and peckinghim so sharply that he was obliged to make signs for mercy; when he wasimmediately taken into custody by the starlings, and made to go into ahole in the cedar, where a jackdaw kept watch while they madepreparations for trying the thief. 

CHAPTER THREE. 

PREPARATIONS FOR THE TRIAL. 

And a fine job those preparations were. It was all in vain that ameeting was held, and the perch taken; everybody wanted to talk at once, and, what was worse still, everybody did talk at once, and made such aclatter, that Tom, the gardener's boy, threw his birch-broom up in thecedar-tree, and then had his ears boxed because it did not come downagain, but lay across two boughs ever so high up and out of reach, tothe great annoyance of Mrs Turtledove, a nervous lady of very mournfulhabit. 

The birch-broom scattered the birds for a while, but they soon cameback, for they were not going to be frightened away by a bundle oftwigs, when they did not even care for a scarecrow, but used to go andsit upon its head; while the tomtit declared it was a capital spidertrap, and used to pick out no end of savoury little spinners for hisdinner. 

When the birds had all settled again, they went to business in a quieterway, for they did not wish to be again driven off in such a sweepingmanner; so at last they decided that the owl should be judge, because helooked big and imposing. 

"Oh!" said Specklems the starling, "but he's so sleepy andchuckleheaded. "

"All the better, my dear sir, " said the magpie, who had come back onhearing the news of the capture; "all the better, my dear sir, for youknow you will be for the prosecution, and then, with a highlyrespectable jury, we shall get on capitally; in fact, hardly want anyjudge at all, only to keep up appearances. "

"Whew, whoo, whistlerustle, " away they went, and settled in a cloud onthe top of the old ivied house, and round about the owl's nest--birds ofall colours, sorts, and sizes; long tails and short tails; long billsand short bills; worm-workers, grub-grinders, bud-biters, snail-crushers, seed-snappers, berry-bringers, fruit-finders, all kindsof birds--to fetch Judge Owl to sit at the court, to try the foreignthief, who had made such a commotion, trouble, bother, worry, anddisturbance; and kicked up such a dust, such a shindy, such a hobble, ashad never before been known in Featherland. 

"Hallo! here, Shoutnight; hallo! wake up; anybody at home?" said themagpie, holding his head very much on one side, and peeping with one eyeat a time into the snug place where the fuzzy old gentleman used tobring his mice home. "Hallo! here, " he continued, throwing in a smalllump of mortar, which woke up the owl with a start. 

"Who-hoo-hoo-hoo?" shouted the master of the house. 

"Who-who tu-who-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo?" shouted the mistress. 

"Ciss-s-s--phistle--phut-snap, " chorused the juveniles, who had beendisturbed by their mamma, treading upon one, scratching another on theside of the head, and giving number three such a crack with her wingthat the little fellow was knocked out of the nest into an old sootypart of the chimney, and came back such a little guy that his motherhardly knew him. 

"Who-who-oo-oo-oo?" said the owl again. 

"`Who? who? who?' why, whom do you suppose, but all your cousins ofFeatherland, come to give you a call?" said the magpie. 

Whereupon the old gentleman came forth in a very dignified way, with hiswife's spectacles on his nose, and then, because he could not see a bit, stood winking and blinking and nodding his great head, and bowing, andsticking up his feathers, like a stupid old turkey-cock, till he lookedso majestic and imposing, that it was decided at once that he must comeinto the cedar and try the foreigner, who would not have a chance to getoff with such a judge before him. 

Off went the owl with a heavy flap-flap, and across the garden to wherethe great cedar stood; and away went the birds with such a flutter, rustle, and bustle, that the whole air whistled again as they sweptaway. 

"Now, then, bolster-brains, " said the starling to the jackdaw, "why, you've been asleep!" And there, sure enough, had sat the daw with hishead in his pocket, and one leg put away for the present until he wantedit again. 

"Asleep! nonsense!" said the daw. "Pooh--tchah! who ever heard of sucha thing? Only thinking, my dear sir--only thinking; and I think so muchbetter with my eyes shut and the light shaded from them. "

"Why, you depraved descendant of a corvine ancestor; you grey-headed oldmiscreant, " exclaimed the blackbird, who had been to look at theprisoner, "what have you done with the foreigner?"

"Done, " said the daw, "done with the foreigner! No, of course I havenot done with the foreigner, any more than the rest of the companyhave. "

"But where is he?" chorused several birds; "where is he?"

"Ah!" said Judge Shoutnight, "who-oo-oo--ere's the prisoner?"

Over the hills and far away, with voice cleared by sucking the littlebirds' eggs, and crying "Cuckoo, " till the far-off woods rang back theecho from their golden green sides; and still on and on flew thesweet-voiced bird, crying that summer had come again with its hedge-sideflowers and sweet-scented gales, bonny meadows, golden with the glossybuttercups, while nodding cowslips peeped from their verdant beds. "Cuckoo!" cried the bird, and away he flew again over the rich greenpasture, where the lowing cows lazily browsed amongst the richcream-giving grass, or crouched in their fresh, sweet banqueting-hall, and idly ruminated with half-shut eyes, flapping their great widespreadears to get rid of some early fly. And, still rejoicing in his liberty, the bird cried "Cuckoo! cuckoo!" over vale and lea. 

CHAPTER FOUR. 

"PEEDLE-WEEDLE-WEE. "

"There, only hark at that, " said Mrs Flutethroat; "who can possibly goto sleep with that noise going on--ding, ding, dinging in one's ears?"saying which the good dame took her head from beneath her wing, andsmoothed down her feathers as she spoke. "There never was such anuisance as those bottle-tits anywhere. "

The noise that Mrs Flutethroat complained of proceeded from the lowbranches of a large fir-tree; and as the good dame listened the soundscame again louder than ever, "Peedle-weedle-wee, peedle-weedle-wee, " ina small, thready, pipy tone, as though the birds who uttered the cry hadhad their voices split up into two or three pieces. 

"Peedle-weedle-wee, peedle-weedle-wee, " cried a row of littlelong-tailed birds, so small that they looked like little balls offeathers, with tiny black eyes and a black beak--so small that it washardly worth calling a beak at all--stuck at one point, and a thin tailat the other extreme. 

"Peedle-weedle-wee, peedle-weedle-wee, " they kept crying, whichmeant, --"Let me come inside where it's warm;" and as they kept onwhining the same cry, the outside birds kept flitting over the backs ofthose next to them, and trying to get a middle place. Then the next twodid the same, and the next, and the next, until they all had done thesame thing, when they began again; and all the while that wretched, querulous piping "peedle-weedle-wee" kept on, till Mrs Flutethroat grewso angry, and annoyed and irritable, that she felt as though she couldhave thrown one of her eggs at the tiresome little intruders on thepeace of the garden. 

"Peedle-weedle-wee, peedle-weedle-wee, " said the bottle-tits as busy asever, trying to get the warmest spot. 

"There they go again, " said Mrs Flutethroat; "why don't you gosomewhere else, and not make that noise there?"

"Peedle-weedle-wee, peedle-weedle-wee, " said the bottle-tits. 

"Ah!" said Mrs Flutethroat, "I wish I was behind you, I'd make you say`Peedle-wee-weedle--weedle-wee-peedle, ' as you call it. I'd soon Heafter you, only it is so dark, and all my egg's would grow cold. Tchink-tchink-tchink, " she cried, trying to fright them; but still theykept on "Peedle-weedle-wee, peedle-weedle-wee" worse than ever; and, asit grew dark, it actually appeared as though they were coming nearer tothe nest. 

"There, " she exclaimed at last, "I can't stand this any longer! Here, Flutethroat, wake up, do, " she cried to her partner, who was sittingupon a neighbouring bough with his feathers erect all over him, and hishead turned right under and quite out of sight. "Wake up, wake up, do, "she cried again, trying to shake the boughs. 

But Flutethroat could not wake up just then, for he was enjoying a mostdelightful dream: he was living in a country where there were no cats, nor any other living things but slugs, snails, and grubs; while allkinds of fruit grew in profusion, so that there was no difficulty inobtaining any amount of food; but one great drawback to his happinesswas an ugly, misshapen little bird, which would keep running after him, and crying, "Peedle-weedle-wee, peedle-weedle-wee, " or else shouting athim to "wake up. "

"Wake up, wake up, " cried the voice. 

"Get along with you, do, " said Flutethroat. 

"Peedle-weedle-wee, peedle-weedle-wee, " cried the voice again. 

"Oh! bother, " said Flutethroat, slowly drawing his head out from beneathhis wing, and finding that the voices were real, and plainly to be heardon both sides of the puzzled bird; for Mrs Flutethroat was crying out"Wake up, wake up, " and the bottle-tits were squabbling more than everfor the warmest place. 

"There, at last, " said Mrs Flutethroat, "if you sleep after thatfashion, that old green-eyed cat must have you some day, and I shall bemade a disconsolate widow. "

"Well, what's the matter?" said Flutethroat, opening his yellow billquite an inch, and gaping dreadfully without putting a wing before hismouth. 

"What's the matter?" said his mate crabbily. "Why, look at those nastylittle feather-balls peedle-weedling; who can put up with it? They'veno business there at all. They've been making that noise forhalf-an-hour. "

"Well, go to sleep, and don't take any notice. "

"But I can't; I've been trying ever so long, and they won't let me. Every now and then I think they have gone to sleep, but they only burstout worse than ever. There, hark at them; isn't it dreadful?"

"Heigho--he--ha--ha--hum--mum; yes, very, " said Flutethroat. "Oh! dear;how sleepy I am!"

"Sleepy, " said Mrs Flutethroat crossly; "so am I; then why don't you goand stop that dreadful noise?"

"How can I stop it? They have as good a right to be there as we have tobe here; so we must not interfere with them. "

"But you must stop it, " said his wife, getting so cross that Flutethroatwas obliged to say "Very well, " and go slowly towards the fir-tree, where the tiny birds were sitting in a row, and when he got up to themthere they were tired out and fast asleep; the last one awake havingdropped off just as he was half through saying "weedle, " and as he wasgoing to hop over his neighbours' backs to get in the middle. 

Flutethroat stopped to look at the little downy grey mites, and couldnot help thinking how pretty they looked; when he went back to thelaurel bush, and found his mate fast asleep too; and so there wasnothing else for it but to turn himself into a ball of feathers, whichhe quickly did; and then there was nought to be heard but the nightbreezes of early spring rustling through the half bare trees, andhurrying off to fetch water from the sea to drop upon the ground, sothat flowers and grass might spring up, and earth look bright and gayonce more. 

"Kink-kink-kink, " cried Flutethroat, darting through the shrubbery nextmorning, and rousing up his cousins, who were soon busy at workfinishing their nest and getting everything in apple-pie order. Howhard they all worked; fetching materials from all sorts of distantplaces, and picking only those of the most sober hues, such as would notattract the notice of those people who might be passing by; and then howcarefully was every straw, or hair, or thread woven in and out andsecured, so that the walls of the nests grew up neat, tight, and compactas possible, and all the while so tightly fastened that nothing short ofgreat violence could move them from their place. As for the nests ofFlutethroat and his cousins, they were so warmly plastered inside, thatit might have been thought that they meant their little nests to besubstantial houses to last them for years to come. 

"Caw-aw--caw-aw--caw-aw, " cried a rook up in the high limes. 

"Caw-caw-caw-caw, " cried all the rest of the rooks up in the high limes. And then such a chorus broke forth that the whole of Greenlawn was in astate of alarm, and called a meeting in the cedar to know what was thematter. 

"There's somebody shot, " said Mr Specklems, the starling. 

"Nonsense, " said the thrush; "there was no pop. It must be somethingmuch worse than that. "

"Send some one to ask, " said the jackdaw. 

"Ah! to be sure, " said everybody in chorus; and so it was decided thatthe jackdaw should go and see, and then come back and deliver hisreport. 

Off he went; and all the time he was gone the birds in the cedar made anoise of their own, almost equal to that in the rookery, till thejackdaw came back looking so cunning and knowing, that every one couldplainly see that nothing very serious was the matter. 

As soon as he got up to his place in the cedar all the birds crowdedround him to make inquiries; but the daw began to teaze them, andwouldn't tell anything for a few minutes, and then in a half whisper hesaid something to the starling. 

"Tchitch!" said Specklems, "is that all? why I'd have two dozenhatchings without making one half of that disturbance. Dear friends, "he continued, turning round to the assembled birds, "dear friends, it'sa great to-do about nothing at all; for all that hullabaloo is becausethere are some young rooks hatched. "

"Boo! oh! er! ah!" cried all the birds in all sorts of tones of disgustand annoyance. "What a shame. --Stupid things, " and many otherexpressions of indignation at being startled about such a piece ofrubbish, burst from the birds; and directly after there was a whirl, anda rush, for all the birds darted off in the greatest haste to get totheir business again, to make up for lost time; and would not leave itafterwards although a jay flew over screaming harshly; and a stray hengot in the garden scratching the flower beds, and had to be hunted out;nor yet even when Mrs Puss came slinking down the garden, and round allthe flower beds; for this was a terribly busy time, and every moment wasof value, though certainly food began to be much more plentiful now thewarm and genial sun began to shine longer every day, and made bud afterbud burst into beautiful emerald green leaves, that made the trees casta deeper shade, and began to conceal the nests--even those of the rooksup in the tall limes. 

CHAPTER FIVE. 

PRETTY PUSSY. 

A nice job had Mr and Mrs Spottleover with their young ones; they werenot amiable and dutiful children, but spent all their time in grumblingand shouting for more food, till they nearly drove the old folks mad, and Mrs Spottleover said she would never have been married if she hadknown; "no; that she wouldn't. " Tiresome children hers were, for theywere no sooner hatched, and lay at the bottom of the nest all eyes andmouth, with just a patch of grey woolly fluff stuck on their backs, thanthey began to open their great beaks, and gorge everything the old onesbrought; till you would almost have thought they must have killedthemselves; but they did not; they only grew; and that, too, at such arate, that before they were fledged they used to push, crowd, and fightbecause, they said, the nest was too tight; and it was almost a wondernobody fell overboard. Beautiful beaks they had, too, as they grewolder, and sweet voices, that subsided into a querulous grumbling whenthe old birds had gone; but directly father or mother returned, tiredand panting, to settle on the bush, up popped every bird, and strainedevery neck, and wide open sprang every beak, ready for the coming "slug, grub, or wire-worm. "

"My turn--my turn--my turn--my turn, " chorused the voices; ready to snapup the coming morsel like insatiable young monsters as they were; andthis time it was a fine fat worm that Mrs Spottleover found on thegrass plot far away from his hole, and had killed and then brought himin triumph to her little ones for breakfast. 

"Now, one at a time, children; one at a time; don't be greedy, " saiddame Spottleover; and then she popped the beautiful, juicy, macaroni-like morsel into the beak of number one, who began to gobble itdown for fear anyone else should get a taste; but number four saw achance, and snapped hold of the other end of the worm and swallowed everso much, till at last he and his brother had their heads close together;when they began to pull and quarrel--quarrel and pull--till MrsSpottleover turned her own beak into a pair of scissors, snipped thedisputed morsel in two, boxed both the offenders' ears, said she wouldtake the worm away--but did not, as it was all gone--and then flew offfor a fresh supply. 

In came father with three green caterpillars fresh from off thecauliflowers, popped them in as many beaks, and he, too, flew off on hisday's work to hunt out savoury morsels for his little tyrant-likechildren. 

"I can fly, " said number three; "I know I can. I mean to try soon, andget my own bits. I know I can. "

"You can't, " said one brother; "you can't. You would come down wop! andcouldn't get up again. You ain't strong enough to fly yet. "

"I am. I could fly ever so high; and I'd show you, if I liked, but Idon't like. "

"Ah! you're afraid. "

"No; I'm not. "

"Yes; you are. "

"No; I'm not. There's a wing now, " said the fledgeling, spreading outhis half-penned pinion. "Couldn't I fly with that?"

"Oh!" roared the other disputant, "that's right in my eye. Oh, dear;oh, dear; won't I tell when mother comes back. "

"Tchut, tchut, children, " said the dame, flying to the nest; "quiet, quiet, there's the green-eyed tiger that killed your grandfather coming;so thank your stars that you are safe in the nest your father and I madefor you; for yon wretch would, if it could, make mouthfuls of you all. "

But Mrs Pussy with her striped sides, and long, lithe sweeping tail, did not know of the thrushes' nest, and so went quietly and softly downthe path towards the hollow cedar-tree. Here and there lay a wet leafor two; and when quiet Mrs Puss put her velvet paw on one it wouldstick to it, and set her twitching and shaking her leg till the leaf wasgot rid of, when she licked the place a little and went on again. Ah!so soft and smooth and velvety was Mrs Puss, looking as innocent as theyoungest of kittens, and without a thought of harm to anybody. Walkingalong so softly, and not noticing anything with one eye, but keeping theother slyly fixed upon friend Specklems, who was high up on a deadbranch, making believe to sing to his good lady, who was two feet deepin a hole of the cedar, sitting upon four beautiful blue eggs. Andbeautifully Specklems, no doubt, thought he sang, only to a listener itsounded to be all sputter and wheezle--chatter and whistle; but he kepton. All the while puss crept gently up to the trunk of the tree, onlyjust to rub herself up against it, backwards and forwards; nothing more. But, somehow, Mrs Puss was soon up the trunk, and close to thenest-hole before the starling saw her; but he did at last, with her pawright down in the hole. "Now, thief, " he shouted, perking himself upand looking very fierce; but all the while trembling lest puss shoulddraw out his wife tangled up in the nesting stuff. "Now, come, out ofthat. "

Mrs Puss gave a slight start, and peering up saw Specklems looking asfierce about the head as an onion stuck full of needles; but she did notdraw forth her paw until she had, by carefully stretching it out as faras possible, found that she could not reach the nest. 

"Dear me, how you startled me, Mr Specklems, " she said; "who ever wouldhave thought of seeing you there?" and then she began sneaking andsidling up towards the bird, of course with the most innocent ofintentions; and though not in the slightest degree trusting Mrs Puss, Specklems sat watching to see what she would do next. 

"It's a nice morning, isn't it?" she continued mildly, but at the sametime drawing her wicked-looking red tongue over her thin lips as thoughshe thought Specklems would be nicer than the morning. "It's a nicemorning, isn't it? and how Do you do, my dear sir? You see I am takinga ramble for my health. I find that I want fresh air; the heat of thekitchen fire quite upsets me sometimes, and then I come out for astroll, and get up the trees just to hear the sweet warbling of thesongsters. "

"Humph!" said Specklems to himself, "that's meant for a compliment to mysinging; but I know she's after no good. "

"The kitchen was very, very hot this morning, " continued Puss, "and so Icame out. " And this was quite true, for the kitchen _was_ hot thatmorning--too hot to hold Mrs Puss, for cook had run after her with thefire-shovel for licking all the impression off one of the pats ofbutter, just ready for the breakfast parlour, and leaving the marks ofher rough tongue all over the yellow dab, and hairs out of her whiskersin the plate; and then when cook called her a thief, she stood lickingher lips at the other end of the kitchen, and looking so innocent, thatcook grew quite cross, caught up the shovel, and chased puss round thekitchen, till at last the cat jumped up on cook's shoulder, scratchedoff her cap, and leaped up to the open skylight and got away; while poorcook was so frightened that she fell down upon the sandy floor in afainting fit, but knocked the milk-jug over upon the table as she wentdown, which served to revive her, for the milk ran in a little rivuletright into one of the poor woman's ears, filled it at once like a littlelake, and then flowed down her neck, underneath her gown, and completelysoaked her clean white muslin handkerchief. And so Mrs Puss found thekitchen very hot that morning, and took a walk in the garden. 

"Let me hear you sing again, sir, " said Puss, creeping nearer andnearer. "That piece of yours, where you whistle first, and then makethat sweet repetition, which sounds like somebody saying `stutter' agreat many times over very quickly. Now, do, now; you folks that cansing always want so much pressing. "

Poor Specklems! he hardly knew what to do at first; but he had witenough to be upon his guard while he sang two or three staves of hissong. 

By this time Puss had managed to creep within springing distance of poorSpecklems; and just in the midst of one of her smooth oily speeches shemade a jump, open-mouthed and clawed, but missed her mark, for thestarling gave one flip with his wing and was out of reach in an instant, and then, with a short skim, he alighted on the thin branch of aneighbouring tree, where he sat watching his treacherous enemy, who hadfared very differently. Crash went Mrs Puss right through the pricklybranches of the cedar, and came down with her back across the handle ofthe birch-broom, which still stuck in the tree, and made her give suchan awful yowl, that the birds all came flocking up in time to see MrsPuss go spattering down the rest of the distance, and then, as a matterof course, she fell upon her feet, and walked painfully away, followedby the jeers of all the birds, who heard the cause of her fall, whileshe went off spitting and swearing in a most dreadful manner, andlooking as though her tail had been turned into a bottle-brush, just atthe time her coat was so rough that it would be useful to smooth it. 

Poor Mrs Puss, she nearly broke her back, and she went off to the topof the tool-shed, where the sun shone warmly, and there she set to andlicked herself all over, till her glossy coat was smooth again, when shecurled herself up in a ball and went fast asleep, very much to thediscomfort of a pair of redstarts, who were busy building their nestunder the very tile Mrs Puss had chosen for her throne. 

"A nasty, deceitful, old, furry, green-eyed, no-winged, ground-crawlingmonster, " said Mrs Specklems. "There I sat, with its nasty fish-hookfoot within two or three inches of my nose, and there it was opening andshutting, and clawing about in such a way, that I turned all cold andshivery all over, and I'm sure I've given quite a chill to the eggs; anddear, dear, what a time they are hatching! Don't you think that if wewere both to sit upon them they would be done in half the time? Herehave I been sit-sit-sit for nearly twenty days down in that dark hole;and if we are to have any more such frights as that just now, why, I dodeclare that I will forsake the nest. The nasty spiteful thing, itought to be pecked to death. "

But Mrs Puss was not to go unpunished for her wrongful dealings; abouthalf an hour after she had been asleep, who should come snuffing aboutin the garden but Boxer, the gardener's ugly, old rough terrier. He hadno business at all in the garden, but had managed to get his chain outof the staple, and there he was running about, and dragging it all overthe flower beds, and doing no end of mischief; then he made a charge atMrs Spottleover, who was on the lawn, where she had just punched out afine grub, but she was so frightened at Boxer's rough head andhair-smothered eyes, that she dropped her grub and went off in a hurry. Over and over went Boxer in the grass, having such a roll, and pantingand lolling out his great red tongue with excitement, and then workingaway with both paws at his collar till he got it over his little cock-upears, and then he gave his freed head such a shake that the ears rattledagain. Then away he went, sniffing here, snuffing there, jumping andsnapping at the birds far above, and coming down upon the ground withall four legs at once, and racing about and playing such strange antics, capers, and pranks, that the birds all laughed at the stupid, good-natured-looking dog, and did not feel a bit afraid of him. 

All at once Boxer gave a sharp sniff under the cedar-tree, just whereMrs Puss had tumbled down, and then sticking his ears forward, his nosedown, and his tail straight up, he trotted off along the track Mrs Pusshad made, until he came close to the tool-shed, where, looking up, hecould just see a part of Pussy's shining fur coat leaning over thetiles. Now, Boxer was a very sly old gentleman, and when he saw thebirds flocking after him to see what he would do, he made them a sign tobe quiet, and put his paw up to the side of his wet black nose, as muchas to say, "I know;" and then he trotted off to the melon frames, walkedup the smooth sloping glass till he could jump on to the ivy-coveredwall, where he nearly put his foot in the hedge-sparrow's nest, and soon along the top till he came to the tool-shed, where his enemy, MrsPuss, lay curled up, fast asleep. 

They were dreadful enemies were Mrs Puss and Boxer, for the cat used togo into the yard where the dog was chained up, and, after spitting andswearing at him, on more than one occasion took advantage of his beingat the end of his chain, and keeping just out of his reach scratched theside of his nose, and tore the skin so that poor Boxer ran into hiskennel howling with pain, rage, and vexation; while Mrs Puss, settingher fur all up, marched out of the yard a grander body than ever. Andthen, too, she used to get all the titbits out of the kitchen that wouldhave fallen to Boxer's share; and he, poor fellow, used often to say tothe robin-redbreast who came for a crumb or two, that the pieces hesometimes had smelt catty, from Puss turning them over and then refusingthem, when they came to the share of the poor dog. 

So Boxer never forgave the scratch on his nose, nor yet Mrs Puss'sboast that he was afraid of her; so he walked softly along the wall, andon to the tool-shed, and with one bouncing leap came down plop upon thetreacherous old grimalkin. 

"Worry-worry-worry-ur-r-r-ry, " said Boxer, as he got hold of Pussy'sthick skin at the nape of her neck, and shook away at it as hard as hecould. 

"Wow-wow-wiau-au-au-aw, " yelled Puss, wakened out of her sleep, and invain trying to escape. 

"Hooray!" said the birds, flying round and round in a state of thegreatest excitement. 

"Give it her, Boxer, " shouted Mr Specklems, remembering the morning'streachery. 

And then off they rolled on to the ground, and over and over, righting, howling, and yelling, till Mrs Puss made a desperate rush through agooseberry bush, and a thorn went so sharply into Boxer's nose that heleft go, and away went Puss across the garden till she came to the wall, and was scrambling up it, when Boxer had her by the tail and dragged herdown again. But Puss made another rush towards the gate, dragging Boxerafter her, till she came to the trellis-work opening, through which shedragged herself, and a moment after Boxer stood looking very foolish, with a handful of fur off Puss's tail in his mouth; while she, with herragged ornament, was glad enough to sneak in-doors frightened to death, and get to the bottom of the cellar, where she scared cook almost intofits, by sitting upon a great lump of coal, with her eyes glaring like acouple of green stars in the dark. 

"Wow-wow-wow--bow-wow-wuff, " said Boxer at last, when he found that hisenemy had gone. "Wuff-wuff, " he said again, trying to get rid of thefur sticking about his mouth. "Wuff-wuff, " he said, "that's better. "

"Bravo!" chorused the birds, in a state of high delight; "well done, Boxer!"

"Ha-ha-ha; phut-phut-phut--wizzle-wizzle, " said the starling off the topof the wall. 

"Wizzle-wizzle, indeed, " said Boxer grumpily; "why don't you come down, old sharp-bill, and pull this thorn out of my nose?"

"'Tisn't safe, " said the starling. 

"Get out, " said Boxer; "why, what do you mean?"

"You'd get hold of my tail, perhaps, " said Specklems. 

"Ha-ha-ha, " laughed all the birds; "that's capital, so he would. "

"No, no; honour bright, " said Boxer. "You never knew me cheat; askRobin, there. "

Whereupon the robin came forward in a new red waistcoat, blew his nosevery loudly, and then said:--

"Gentlemen all, I could, would, should, and always have trusted myperson freely with my friend--if he will allow me to call him so, "--herethe robin grew quite pathetic, and said that often and often he had beenindebted to his friend for a sumptuous repast, or for a draught of waterwhen all around was ice; he assured them they might put the greatesttrust in Boxer's honour. 

Whereupon Boxer laid himself in the path, and the birds dropped down oneat a time, some on the beds, some on the gooseberry or currant bushes, and formed quite a cluster round the great, rough, hairy fellow, forthey felt perfectly safe after what the robin had said. 

First of all, the starling examined the wound with great care, and said, "The thorn is sticking in it. "

"Well, I knew that, " said Boxer; "pull it out. "

He spoke so sharply that every one jumped, and appeared as if about tofly off; but as the dog lay quite still, Specklems laid hold of thethorn, and gave a tug at it that made Boxer whine; but he did not get itout, so tried again. 

"Some one come and lend a hand here, " said the starling; and then two orthree birds, one after another, joined wings and pulled away with ahearty "Yo, ho, " until all at once out came the thorn, and down fell thehaulers all in a heap upon the ground, where they fluttered andscrambled about, for their legs and wings had got so mixed up togetherthat there was no telling which was which; and the only wonder was thatthe thrush did not come out of the scramble with the starling's wings, and the blackbird with somebody else's tail. However, at last they wereall right again, and Boxer declared he was so deeply indebted to thebirds that he must ask them all to his kennel in the yard to help him toeat his dinner next day. 

Then the birds whistled and chattered, piped and sang; Boxer gave two orthree barks and jumps off the ground to show his satisfaction, althoughhis nose was bleeding; while all the time Mrs Puss sat alone in thecoal-cellar, making use of most dreadful cat-language, and determiningto serve the birds out for it some day. 

When a proper amount of respect had been shown upon both sides, thebirds flew off to their green homes, to attend to the wants of theiryoung ones, and to finish nesting; while Boxer went back to his greenkennel and made himself a nest amongst his clean straw. 

CHAPTER SIX. 

THE TOMTITS. 

It was all very well for Mrs Puss to get up the great cedar-tree andput her paw down the great hole, but if it had been the thorn-tree, thatwas just coming out all over beautiful white scented blossoms, hangingin long silvery wreaths, Mrs Puss would have found out her mistake. There was a hole there, and there was a nest in it, but pussy's pawcould no more have gone down it than a cannon-ball would run through atobacco-pipe. Such a tiny round hole; such a depth; and such a tinylittle round pair of birds, with blue and white heads, green backs, andyellow breasts, with a black stripe down the centre; such tiny blackbeaks; in short, such a tiny pair of tits were Tom and Tomasina, who hadmade their nest right down at the bottom of this little hole. Bustling, busy little bodies they were, too, popping in and out with little bitsof soft wool, down, or small feathers; and then, tiniest of all werefirst about a dozen morsels of eggs, and then the nest full of littlecallow birds, with all that dozen of little beaks up and open for food. In and out, in and out, till any one would have thought the littletomtit wings would have been tired out; but, no; in and out still, andbackwards and forwards, bringing tiny grubs and caterpillars, and allmanner of little insects in those little open beaks, to satisfy thecraving little family at home. Tom-tit told his wife that he could notunderstand it, but thought that when they were mated all they would haveto do would be to fly about the garden, hopping from twig to twig, andpicking all the little buds through the long sunshiny days, and sleepingat night upon some high, safe bough, rolled up like little balls offeathers. 

"Oh! but, " said Mrs Tit, "only to think of it; such a tiny body as I amto have twelve children, and all the while that great gawky, MrsStockdove, only to have one, for the other she had rolled out of thenest and was killed. "

"Nest, " said Tom, "I never saw such a nest; nothing but a few stickslaid across one another. No wonder the poor little thing rolled out;there was nothing to save it. But it is not every one who has so tidyand neat a little body for a wife as I have. So come, wifey, bustleabout, for the children are all crying as though they had not eaten fora week; and I declare that I'm as hungry as any of them. "

And away flew the little tits, ridding the garden of thousands of insectplagues, and clearing off nuisances that would have destroyed half thefruit and vegetables in the garden. As for the little crawling fliesand other insects, it was wonderful how fast they were snapped up; andthough people would say that Tom-tit and his wife did a great deal ofmischief by pecking the buds, it was quite a mistake; for though theypecked the buds, it was almost always when some sly little insect hadmade itself a hole in the bud, where it would have laid eggs, and itsyoung would have totally destroyed the tree. Todkins, the old gardener, used to be in a fine way about it, and laid all sorts of charges againstnot only Tom-tit but all the rest of the birds, and used to want to settraps, and spread poisoned wheat, and get guns to shoot them with; butthe master of Greenlawn would not let him; so the old man used togrumble and say there would be no fruit and no vegetables, for the birdswould eat everything up, seed, fruit, and all. But the master ofGreenlawn knew best, for he thought that if the birds were killed orfrightened away, the insects, and grubs, and caterpillars, and slugs, and snails, and all sorts of other uncomfortable things, would come andeat the fruit and vegetables, and eat them all up, while the birds wouldbe sure to leave some. And, sure enough, he was quite right, forsomebody else, who used to kill and frighten away all the birds, had allhis crops destroyed; while at Greenlawn, where there were hundreds andhundreds of birds, there was always plenty of fruit and vegetables; forthe birds very seldom touched the fruit if they could get plenty ofother food. Certainly sometimes Mr Sparrow used to pick out the finestand ripest cherries, or have a good peck at a juicy pear. Thestarlings, too, would gobble down the elder-berries, and sometimes thegreenfinches used to go to see how the radish seeds were getting on, andtaking tight hold of the thread-like shoots, pull them out of theground, and leave them upon the top of the bed, fast asleep, for theynever grew any more. Still, take it altogether, there was always twiceas much fruit where there were plenty of birds, as where they were alldriven away. 

CHAPTER SEVEN. 

AN ODD STRANGER. 

There was one bird used to run about Greenlawn on a fine morning, hunting for tiny spiders and flies; he was a little, slim, dapperfellow, with a long tail, and whenever he jumped about a little way, orsettled upon the ground, he used to make his long tail go wipple-wapple, up and down, as if he had shaken it loose; but it was only a funny habitof his, like that of Mrs Hedgesparrow, who was always shaking andshuffling her wings about. A fast runner was Mr Wagtail, and fine funit was to see him skimming along the top of the ground in chase of a flyto take home to his wife, who used to live in a nest in the bank closeby the hole over the pond, where old Ogrebones--blue-backed Billy thekingfisher, had his house, and used to spread the bones of his fishylittle victims about the grass. 

One day Walter Wagtail was running along the ground after a fly, and wasgoing to snap him up, when--"bob"--he was gone in an instant; andWagtail found himself standing before--oh! such an ugly thing, with twobright, staring eyes; a bloated, rough, dirty-looking body; four crookedlegs, no neck, no wings, no tail, and such a heavy stomach, that he wasobliged to crawl about with it resting upon the ground. 

"Heugh! you horrid, ugly-looking thing, " said Wagtail; "you swallowed myfly. Where do you come from? what's your name? who's your father andmother, and what made you so ugly?"

"Ugly, indeed, " said the pudgy thing; "what do you mean by ugly? Justyou go to the bottom of the pond and lie under the mud, oldfluffy-jacket, and stop there for a week, and see how you would lookwith your fine gingerbread black and white feathers sticking to yoursides all muddy and wet. Who would look ugly then? Not you! oh no. "

"But I shouldn't be such a round, rough, clay-tod as you are, oldno-neck, " said the wagtail, ruffling his feathers up at the very idea ofgetting them damp. 

"No, you wouldn't, you miserable whipper-snapper, " croaked the other, settling himself down on the flowerbed, so that he could hardly be toldfrom the ground for colour. "No, you wouldn't, but you would be--ho-ho-ho--you would be--ha-ha-ha--such a--he-he-he--such a--haw-haw-haw. There, I can't help laughing, " said the round fellow, with his fatsides wagging about through his merriment. "You must excuse me, but Ido think you would look so comical with all your feathers gummed down toyour skinny sides, that wisp of a tail like a streak of horsehair, andthose stilty legs sticking into your scraggy body--ho-ho-ho-ho--my fatsides! How I wish I had ribs, for then I could stop laughing easier;but you are such a droll little chap. "

"Get out, " said the bird, wagging his tail with fury, for he was veryproud of his genteel appearance; "get out, you old dusky dab, or I shallkick you. I feel quite disgusted with your appearance. What are youdoing here?"

"Doing?" said the other, rubbing the tears out of his eyes; "doing? why, getting my living the same way as you do--fly-catching. "

"Fly-catching, " said the other with a sneer; "how can you catch flies?Why, you can't run a bit. I suppose you wait till they tumble into yourmouth, don't you? Who are you? What's your name?"

"My name?" said the other; "well, you are not very civil, but I don'tmind telling you. My name's Toad--Brown Toad--and I'd a great dealrather be such an ugly fellow, as you call me, than a weazen, skinny, windbeater like you. How do I catch flies? Why, so, my boy; that's howI catch them, " and just then the toad crept to within two or threeinches of a great fly that had settled upon a leaf, darted out his longtongue, which stuck to the fly, and it was drawn into the toad's greatmouth in an instant. "That's the way I catch flies, my boy, and acapital way too, isn't it?"

"Hum, " said the wagtail, rather astonished at the ease with which thefly was caught; "it wasn't so bad, certainly; but you know you areprecious ugly. Why, you have no waist. "

"Waste!" said the toad, "no, there's no waste about me; it's all usefulwhat there is of me. "

"Ugh! you stupid, " said the other; "I mean _waist_ over your hips, whereyou ought to wear your belt or sash. "

"Oh! ah! I see, " said the toad. "No, I've no waist, and don't wantany, but I know a little chap that has; he's a little black and yellowfellow, who goes buzzing about, making a fine noise, and likes sweetthings; he'd suit you, only he has _such_ a tickler in his tail. Hisname's Wops, or Wasp, or something of that kind. "

"Oh! I know the conceited little plum-stealer; he's poisonous, like youare. "

"Pooh!" said the toad, "poisonous! I'm not poisonous. I'm not evenill-tempered, so as to poison people's minds, much more poison theirbodies. That's an old woman's tale; they say I spit poison, becausethey've seen me catch flies; and are stupid enough, like you, to thinkme ugly, just as if that made any difference. I creep about here andcatch my flies, and enjoy myself well enough. "

"But you can't fly, " said the wagtail vainly; "I can. "

"Pooh! I know, " said the toad; "and you can't swim. I can. "

"But you can't run and catch flies, " said the other, getting cross. 

"No, but I can sit down and catch them, " said the toad, "and that'seasier. "

"Boo! old bark-back; where's your tail?" said the wagtail, now quitecross to find that the ugly old toad was quite as clever as he, and adeal better-tempered. 

"Tail, " said the other contemptuously; "what's the use of a tail only towag? Do you want me to pull it?" And then he made believe that he wasgoing to get hold of the wagtail's long feathers, but the bird flew offin a fright, thoroughly vexed and disappointed, because the nasty, black-looking, rough toad could beat him in everything he said. 

CHAPTER EIGHT. 

OGREBONES. 

Away went the wagtail--flit-flit-flit--down to the pond where thewater-lilies grew, and began running about over them to catch the gnatsthat were dancing over the glassy water; and there again he had afright, for he saw close to his feet, by the edge of a large leaf, agreen nose, just the shape of the toad's. However, he had presence ofmind to say, "Who are you?"

"Croak, " said the green nose, and dived under the water; and then thewagtail saw that it was a light-green thing, with longer legs than thetoad, and that it swam to the bottom and stopped. 

Just then old Ogrebones, the kingfisher, came skimming along like a blueflash over the pond, and he settled on a twig near his hole in the bank. 

"Morning, neighbour, " said he to the wagtail. "How are flies thismorning?"

"Scarce, very scarce, " said the wagtail. "There was a poacher out on myplace catching the poor things with a machine, which he shot at them. One of the lowest-looking, rough customers you ever saw. He said hisname was Brown Toad, and quite insulted me about my figure, --an ugly, pumpkin--shaped, pod-nosed thing. "

"Oh! I know him, " said the kingfisher; "I often meet his first cousindown here in the pond when I'm diving. They're a low lot; acold-blooded set; but what can you expect from a thing whose eggs aresoft, and left to hatch themselves? Why, they are only tadpoles atfirst. "

"You don't say so?" said the wagtail, who had not the least idea what atadpole was, unless it was the pole the gardener used to pull the weedsout of the pond with. "You don't say so?"

"O yes!" said Ogrebones; "it's a fact; I tried to eat one once, butcouldn't get on with it at all. You see, I'm an English bird, and notFrench, so that I cannot manage frog. "

"Of course not; I see, " said the wagtail. 

But the kingfisher did not stop to hear him out, for all of a sudden hesprang up, poised himself a moment in the sunny air, and then dartedinto the water, from whence he presently emerged, bearing a littlestruggling fish in his great beak, and with the sparkling drops of waterrunning off his back, and leaving his bright glossy blue feathers alldry, shining, and bright, as though he had only been for a flightthrough the air. 

"There, " said Ogrebones, "I've got him this time, and not withouttrying. I've missed this little chap twice over, but when once Mrs Kinside there takes him in hand, he will have no chance; for it will beeggs and crumb, and frying-pan with him in no time. "

So then old Ogrebones disappeared within his hole; Wagtail betookhimself to his nest to relate his morning's experiences to the patientMrs Wagtail, who, like many other friends and relatives, was busykeeping her eggs warm; and so the pond was for the moment vacated by thebirds; but it was not alone for all that, for a pretty place was thatpond, just at the bottom of Greenlawn--a pond rich in life of all kinds;this was where the blue-eyed forget-me-not was always peeping up at thepassers-by; there grew the yellow water-lily floating amongst its greatdark green leaves, like a golden cup offered by the water fairies fordrinking the clear crystal liquid. The white water-buttercups, too, glistened over the shallow parts, with such crisp brown water-cresses inbetween, as would have made a relish to the bread and butter of aprincess. All round the edges was a waving green fringe of reeds andrushes--bulrushes with their brown pokery seed-vessels--plaiting rusheswith their tasselled blossoms--and reeds with graceful drooping featheryplumes waving in the soft summer air. Down in the depths of the pondglided by the silvery little fish, glistening and bright; while on thesurface skimmed no end of insects: shiny beetles forming patterns on thewater as they dodged in and out, and round and round in their play;long-legged insects that ran over the water as though it were a hardroad; while darting about in all their metallic brightness and on gauzywings flitted the dragon-flies, blue, green, and blue and green--nowsettling upon the end of some reed, now careering in mid air, now poisedmotionless with wings invisible in their rapid beat, now disturbed bythe buzz of some great humble-bee, and then round and round and up anddown in pursuit of one of their own tribe, till the gauzy wings beattogether and rustled as they came in contact. Butterflies, white, yellow, blue, orange-spotted, tortoise-shell, peacock-eyed, and laced, came there to flit over the glassy water, and look within it at theirbeauty; and here, too, came the mayflies to dance up and down all theday, and die when even came. There never was such a pond anywhere else;for here came the martins and swallows, with their glossy black backs, to skim and dip and drink the water in their rapid flight; here theyfeasted on flies and gnats; and now and then came the squealing, sootyswift, with his long knife-blade wings, and tiny hand-like feet, towhisk away some heedless fly. The swallows above all liked the pond, and used to sit upon the dead branch of the weeping-willow to twitterand sing after their fashion for half-an-hour together. Old Ogreboneswas the great man of the place; but, in the cool of the evening, outwould come sailing from the midst of the little reed island, andflicking their round stumpy tails, the moor hens swimming away, to thegreat disgust of the white ducks, who said they were only impostors, andhad no business to swim, because they had no webs to their feet, butonly long straggling toes. And what ducks those were! white as snow, with red legs; and often and often they would put their beaks in thesoft warm white feathers on their backs and sit upon the water for hourstogether. All the birds loved the pond, and would fly down of a morningto have a regular splash and wash; flicking the water about with theirwings, and sending it flashing and sparkling ever so high in the air, and making the little black tadpoles or pod-noddles go scuffling offinto the deeper water. This was the place that old Boxer loved, andwhen he could get a chance he would go and wet his feet, and rustleabout in amongst the reeds, and pretend to go in the water to swim afterthe ducks, but always turning back when he got in up to his body. 

CHAPTER NINE. 

A TALL GENTLEMAN. 

"Hum!" said Mrs Spottleover one morning to Mrs Flutethroat, after theyhad been having a wash in the bright pure water. "Hum!" she said, looking at the duck's brood of little downies swimming about after her, and one of them with a bit of shell sticking to its back. "Hum! yes, pretty well, but why yellow?"

"Ah! my dear, they will come white; they're not bleached yet. But theyare strong, aren't they? Look at the little ones, now, only four hoursold, and feeding themselves! Don't you wish yours would? Only think ofthe trouble they give before they can feed alone!"

"Well!" said Mrs Spottleover, "that's all very well, but, after all, those little downy balls take as much looking after as our little ones;and then only think of one's child growing up to say nothing better than`Quack-quack, ' besides being flat-nosed and frog-footed. Depend uponit, my dear, things are best as they are!"

"Well, I suppose you are right, " said Mrs Flutethroat; "but I must notstay here gossiping, for I have no end of work to do this morning. "Saying which the hen blackbird shook out her long dusky wings, cried"Pink-pink-pink, " and flew off to the laurel bush to attend to herlittle ones; while the thrush hopped up into a tree to see how the hawswere getting on, and whether there would be a good crop for the winter. 

Just then there was a great shadow passed over the pond, and theducklings splashed through the water, because they were so frightened, and then flop-flop, flip-flop, flip-flop, there came old Shadowbody, theheron, to the pond, and pitched down by the haunt of the kingfisher, where he stood with his long stilty legs half in the water, his greatfloppy wings doubled up close to his sides, and his long neck squeezedbetween his shoulders all of a bundle; and there he stood looking asthough he were going to sleep; but not a bit of it, old Shadowbody, orBluescrags, as some of the saucy young birds called him, did not standby the side of a pond to go to sleep, but to look after his dinner. 

By-and-by the ducklings, seeing that the heron did not move, came nearerto him; and at last a little white fly went sailing along under hisbeak, and two ducklings set off on a race over the surface of the pondto see which would get the little white fly; and so busy were they thatthey forgot all about the great heron, and went up close to him, splashing him all over with the bright sparkling water. 

"Take that, you ugly little downy dab, " said the heron in a pet. "Doyou think I came here to be made a water-mop of? Get out with you! seehow you've wetted my waistcoat. Take that!"

And the poor little duckling did take _that_, and scampered off to itsmother, crying out in such a pitiful voice, "Wheedle-wheedle-wheedle, "that the heron forgot his ill-humour and burst out laughing, and feltquite sorry that he had given poor little Yellow-down such a cruel pokein its back with his long sharp beak. 

"Serve it right, though, " said the heron; "coming splashing, anddashing, and sending the water all over a sedate, quiet gentleman, quietly fishing by the side of a pond! And a nice pond it seems too, with plenty of fish in it. It strikes me I shall often come here. "

Just then Bluescrags made a poke at a fish, and caught it in his longbill, and gobbled it up in no time. But he was not to enjoy himselflong, for the duck was telling all her neighbours about the ill-usageher little one had received; and the mischief-making little wagtailthought as he had seen the lanky bird eating what he called thekingfisher's fishes, he would go and tell, and then sit on the bank andsee the quarrel there would be; for he considered that the heron had nomore business to take the fish out of the pond than the toad had tocatch flies. So he ran to the blue bird's hole, and sticking in hislittle thin body, he ran up it to the nest, shouting, "Neighbour, neighbour; thieves, thieves!"

"Where, where?" said Ogrebones the kingfisher. 

"Here; running away with your fish by the dozen, " said the wagtail. 

"Well, get out of the way, " said the kingfisher, bustling out of thenest and going towards the mouth of the hole. "There, do make haste. "

But the wagtail couldn't make haste, for his tail was so long he couldnot turn round in the hole, and so had to walk backwards the best way hecould, with the points of his tail-feathers catching against the walland sending him forwards upon his beak, and making the old kingfisher socrabby, that at last he gave the poor wagtail a dig with his heavy beakthat made him cry out, "Peek-peek-peek. "

"Then why don't you get out of the way, when all one's fish are beingtaken and stolen?"

Now the wagtail thought this very strange behaviour, when he had takenthe trouble to let old Ogrebones know, and so he very wisely made up hismind never to interfere with other people's business again; for, saidhe, as he got out of the hole at last, "I don't know but what the heronhas as good a right to the fish as old surly has; at all events, I'llnever fetch him out any more. "

Out bounced the kingfisher--"Here! hi! I say! you, there! what are youafter, impudence? Do you know that you are poaching?"

"Eh?" said the heron, looking at the showy little bird that was flittinground him with his feathers sticking up, and looking as though he werein a terrible passion; "Eh?" said the heron, "what's poaching?"

"What's poaching, ignoramus? why, taking other people's fish. Don't youknow who I am?" said the kingfisher, sitting upon a spray and lookingvery self-satisfied and important. 

"No, " said the heron; "I don't know you. But you are not a bad-lookinglittle fellow; only you are small--very small. Why, where are yourlegs?"

"Come, now, " said Ogrebones, "none of your impudence, old longshanks. I'm the king--the kingfisher; and I order you off; so go at once. "

"Ho-ho-ho, " laughed the tall bird. "And pray who made you a king? I'mnot going to be driven off by such a scrubby little thing as you, evenif you have got such grand feathers on your back. Why, if I were toshut my bill upon your neck, that head of yours would drop off regularlyscissored, and then you'd be just such a king as Charles the First. "

"Oh, dear!" said the kingfisher, "only hark at him! I never heard sucha character before in my life. "

"He nearly killed one of my little ones, " quacked the duck, coming up. 

"Stuck his beak in my back, " said a frog, putting his nose out of thewater; and then seeing that the heron was going to make a dart at him, "Ouf, " said he, popping down again in a hurry, and never stopping untilhad crept close down to the bottom of the pond where he crept under theweeds, and lay there all day, lost frightened to death. 

"Keep your little flat bills at home, ma'am, " said the heron. "Butreally, " he said politely, "I did not know they were yours, or I shouldnot have done so; but who would have thought that those little yellowdabs were children of such a beautifully white and graceful creature asyou are?"

Whereupon the duck blushed, and spread one of her webbed feet before herface, and looked quite pleased at the compliment. 

"Don't listen to him, " croaked the kingfisher, backing into his hole;"he's a cheat, and a bad character, and thief, and a--"

But the heron here made a poke at his royal highness with his greatscissors bill, and the kingfisher scuffled out of sight in a fright, having learnt the lesson that a small tyrant, however grandly he maydress, is not always believed in; for with all his bright colours andgaudy plumes he was no match for the great sober-hued, flap-wingedheron, who only laughed at him, and all his grand swaggering; and, assoon as he was gone, settled himself down to his work, and caught fishenough for a good meal, for he felt quite certain that he had as good aright to the fish as the little king, who had had it his own way so longthat he thought everybody would give way to him. 

Poke went the heron's bill, and out came a finny struggler; but it wasno use to kick, for Bluescrags never left go when once he had hold of afish, and he was just gobbling it down when--

"Hillo-ho-ho-o-o, " cried a voice, and looking towards the place fromwhence the sound proceeded, the heron, as he rose from the ground, saw aman holding upon his hand a large sharp-winged bird, with acruel-looking mouth, like that belonging to Hookbeak, the hawk, whosometimes passed over the garden, and such bright yellow and blackpiercing eyes, that as soon as Bluescrags felt their glance meet his, heturned all of a shiver, and his feathers began to ruffle up as though hewere wet. But there was no time to shiver or shake, for the great birdwas coming after him at a terrible rate, every beat of his pointed wingssending him dashing through the air, and in another moment the strange, fierce bird would have had the sharp claws he stretched out in the poorheron, but for the sudden and frantic effort he made to escape. 

All this while Mrs Flutethroat was crying, "Pink-pink-pink" in theshrubbery, in a state of the greatest alarm, for a man had passed by theplace where she was teaching her young ones to fly, carrying a bird onhis gloved hand; while the bird had a curious cap upon its head, socontrived that it could not see anything; but the blackbird could seeits yellow legs and cruel hooked claws that were stuck tightly into thethick glove the man wore. 

"Well, " said Mrs Flutethroat, "I'm very glad he's a prisoner, for thenasty, great, cruel-looking thing must be ten times worse than Hookbeak, the hawk, and if it were let loose here we should all be killed. Pink-tchink-chink, " she cried in alarm; for just then the man, who was afalconer, took his bird's hood off, and shouted at the heron by thepond. The great flap-winged bird immediately took flight, and then, with a dash of its wings, away went the falcon, leaving Mrs Flutethroatshivering with fear. 

Flip-flap, flap-flip-flop went the heron's wings over the water; flipand skim went the falcon's, and then away and away over the woods andfields went the two birds, circling round and round, and higher andhigher; the falcon trying to get above the heron, so as to dart downupon him and break his wings; and the heron, knowing that as long as hekept up the falcon could not touch him, trying his best to keep thehigher. At last the swift-winged bird darted upwards, and hovering fora moment over the poor heron, who cried out with fear, darted down witha rush, and went so close that he rustled through the quill feathers ofthe heron; and so swift was the dart he made, that he went down--downfar enough before he could stop himself, and then when he looked upagain, he saw that the heron had risen so high that there was no chanceof catching him again; so off he flew, and perched in the cedar-tree atGreenlawn, where he sat cleaning and pruning his feathers, andsharpening his ugly hooked beak till it had such a point that it wouldhave been a sad day for the poor bird who came in his clutches; whilehis master, who had lost sight of him, was wandering away far enoughoff, whistling to him to come back to his perch. 

CHAPTER TEN. 

FLAYEM, THE FALCON. 

However, he was not left there long in peace, for the birds of Greenlawndid not like such visitors; and the first notice they had of thestranger was from Specklems, the starling, who flew up into the tree, and then out again as though a wasp had stuck in his ear. 

"Chur-chair-chark, " he shouted, flying round and round, spitting andsputtering, and making his head look like a hedgehog. "Chur-chair-r-r-r, " he cried, and very soon the whole of the birds inthe neighbourhood were out to see what it all meant. 

"Now then, what's the matter?" said the magpie, coming up all in ahurry. "Whose eggs are broken now? Anybody's little one tumbled out ofthe nest into Mrs Puss's mouth, for me to get the blame?"

"Look--look in the cedar, " shouted the birds; and up in the cedar wentthe magpie with his long tail quivering with excitement, and down hecame again with his tail trembling with fright. 

"Why didn't you say who it was in the tree?" said the magpie. "Oh! mystars and garters, how out of breath I am. Going about in such a hurryalways puts me in a tremble. Oh no! I'm not afraid, not the least bitin the world, it's being out of breath. "

"Well, go up and drive the old hook-nosed thing away, " said theblackbird; "he's no business here, and we _are_ all afraid; ain't webirds?"

"Yes! yes! scared to death, " chorused all the birds. 

"Come, up you go, " said the blackbird; "there's a good fellow. "

But the magpie stood on one leg and put a long black claw by the side ofhis beak in a very knowing manner, and then he said, with his head allon one side, "How do I know that he won't bite?"

"Why, we thought you said that you were not afraid, " said the birds. 

"Not the least in the world, gentlemen, " said Mag; "but my wife'scalling me, and I must go, or really I should only be too happy tooblige you. Another time you may depend upon me. Good-bye, gentlemen, _good-bye_. "

And before the birds had time to speak again, the cowardly magpie gavethree or four hops across the lawn, and then spread out his wings, andwent off in a hurry--telling a story into the bargain, for his wifemight have called for a week, and he could not have heard so far-off. But Maggy was dreadfully afraid, and, like many people in the world, hewas ashamed to show it, and so made a very lame-legged excuse, and ranaway. 

"Ha-ha-ha, " said the birds, "why, that's worse than being afraid andshowing it. Why, he's ever so much bigger than we are, and has clawssharp enough for anything. Why, he pinched one of old motherMuddle-dab's ducklings to death with his great black nails. "

"Well, what's to be done now?" said Specklems, "I'm not going to havehim in my tree, and I won't either. I've a good mind to run at him withmy sharp bill and stick it into him; and I would, too, if I was sure hewouldn't hurt me. Wouf!" said the starling, fiercely, and making a pokeat nothing; "wouf! couldn't I give it him!" And then he stuck hislittle pointed feathers up again, and stood on the tips of his toes witha look as fierce as a half-picked chicken. 

"Of course, gentlemen, it isn't for such a quiet mournful body as me tosay anything, " said the dove, "but I can't help thinking that the treeis as much mine as Mr Specklems'; but we won't quarrel about that, forjust now it belongs to somebody else, and I feel very uncomfortableabout my young ones. Suppose Mr Specklems goes and gives the greatstaring, goggle-eyed thing a poke; I'm sure I wish he would. "

"I should just like to pickaxe him with my mortar-chipper, " said an oldcock-sparrow. "I'd teach him to come into other people's trees withoutbeing asked. "

"Let's ask him civilly to go, " said the wren. 

"Let's shout at him, and frighten him, " said the owl. 

"Say `Ta-ta' to him, and then he'll go, " said the jackdaw. 

"Why, we're not afraid, after all, " said all the birds together; "let'sall have a fly at him at once and beat him off. "

"Who'll go first?" said the jackdaw. 

"Why, I will, " said the tomtit. 

And then all the birds burst out laughing so heartily at the tiny littlefellow's offer, that he grew quite cross, and told the birds to come on;and then he flew into the cedar, and before the great falcon knew whathe was going to do, Tom-tit dashed at him, and gave him such a peck withhis little sharp beak, that the falcon jumped off his perch and staredabout him; and then, before he could find out what was the matter, thejackdaw flew up above him, and came down head over heels on his back;the owl shouted "Who-o-who-o" in his ear; the blackbird and thrush stucktheir beaks in his stomach; the sparrows poked him in the back; and themartins and swallows darted round and round him, and under and over, andall the other birds whistled and chattered and fluttered about him atsuch a rate, that at last the falcon didn't know whom to attack, and wasregularly mobbed out of the garden, and flew off with a whole stream ofbirds after him, and he, in spite of his sharp claws and beak, glad toget out of the way as fast as he could. 

At last the birds all flew back again, and settled down amongst thebushes on Greenlawn, and chirruped and laughed to think how they haddriven away the great hook-beaked enemy, when who should come down intotheir midst but the magpie, all in a hurry and bustle, and looking asimportant as if all the place belonged to him. 

"Now, then, here I am again, " said he. "She only wanted my opinionabout our last eggs, and I've hurried back as fast as I could to driveaway this great hook-beaked bird that frightened you all so. I supposeI had better go up at once, hadn't I? But where shall I send him to?"

And there the great artful bird stood pretending that he had not seenthe falcon driven off, and that he had come back on purpose to scare itaway. But it would not do this time, for although there were some ofthe little birds who believed in the magpie, and thought him a very finefellow, yet the greater part of those present burst out laughing at him, and at last made him so cross that he called them a pack of idiots, andflew off in a pet, feeling very uncomfortable and transparent, and crosswith himself as well, for having been such a stupid, deceitful thing. While the wiser birds made up their minds never to be deceived by thesly bird again; for before this he had had it all his own way, becausehe was so big, and everybody thought that he was brave as well; but nowthat he had been put to the test, he had proved himself to be an arrantcoward, and only brave enough to fight against things smaller thanhimself. 

CHAPTER ELEVEN. 

THE LITTLE WARBLER. 

"Sky-high, sky-high, twitter-twitter, sky-high-higher-higher, " sang thelark, and he fluttered and circled round and round, making the air abouthim echo again and again with the merry song he was singing--a song sosweet, so bright and sparkling, that the birds of Greenlawn stopped tolisten to the little brown fellow with the long spurs and top-knot, whistling away "sweet and clear, sweet and clear, " till he rose so highthat the sounds came faintly, and nothing could be seen of him but alittle black speck high up against the edge of the white flecky cloud;and still the sweet song came trilling down so soft and clear, that thebirds clapped their wings and cried "Bravo!" while the jackdaw said hewould take lessons from the lark in that style of singing, for hethought it would suit his voice, and then he was quite offended when thethrush laughed, but begged pardon for being so rude. And then, whilethe birds were watching the lark, he began to descend; slowly, and byjerks, every time sending forth spurts from the fountain of song thatgushed from his little warbling throat; and then down, lower and lowerstill, singing till he was near the ground, when, with one long, clear, prolonged note, he darted down, falling like a stone till close to thegrass, when he skimmed along for some distance, and then alighted in alittle tussock of grass that stood by itself in the field, which cameclose up to Greenlawn, and ran right down to the farther edge of thepond. And what was there in the tussock of grass but a tiny cup-likenest in the ground, lined with dry grass, and covered snugly over by thelark's little brown wife, who was keeping the little ones warm, whileher husband had been up almost out of sight in the bright sunny airsinging her one of his sweetest songs, --a song so sweet that the birdshad all stayed from their work to listen. 

And this is what he sang--the song that made his little mate's blackbeady eyes twinkle and shine as she sat in the tussock; for she felt soproud to think how her mate could warble:--

 "Low down, low down, sitting in the tussock brown, Little mate, the sky is beaming; little mate, earth wears no frown. Higher, higher; higher, higher; toward the cloudflecks nigher, nigher, Round and round I circle, singing; higher, higher ever winging; Over meadow, over streamlet, Over glistening dew, and beamlet Flashing from the pearl-hung grasses, Where the sun in flashes passes; Over where sweet matey's sitting; Ever warbling, fluttering, flitting; Praising, singing--singing, praising; Higher still my song I'm raising. Sky-high, sky-high; higher--higher--higher--higher, Little matey, watch your flier; Sweet--sweet--sweet--sweet--sweet--sweet--sweet--sweet; Here the merry breezes meet, Where I twitter, circling higher, Watch me flying higher, higher. Low down, low down, nestling in the tussock brown, Little mate, I'm coming down. "

"Well, that beats the owl hollow, " said Mr Specklems to his wife. "Ithink I could sing as well myself though, if it was not for thisconstant feeling of having a cold. There must have been a draught whereI was hatched, and I've never recovered it. I can't think how hemanages to sing and fly too at the same time: I can't. Why, I should beout of breath in no time. "

"There, don't be a booby, " said his wife; "you are not a song-bird atall. I heard the crow say we were distant relations of his, and no onewould for a moment think that he was a singer. "

"Hark at her now!" said Specklems, "not a singer; why, what does shecall that?" And then the vain little bird whistled and sputtered andcizzled away till he was quite out of breath, when his wife laughed athim so merrily, but told him that she liked his whistle better than thefinest trill the skylark ever made; and so then Specklems said thatafter all he thought the crow might be right, but, at all events, theSpecklems could do something better than cry "Caw-waw" when they openedtheir beaks. 

Just then who should come buzzing along but a wasp, a regular gorgeousfellow, all black and gold, and with such a thin waist that he lookedalmost cut in two. 

"Now then, old spiketail, " said the starling, "keep your distance; noneof your stinging tricks here, or I'll cut that waist of yours in twowith one snip. "

"Who wants to sting, old peck-path?" said the wasp. "It's very hard onecan't go about one's work without being always sneered and jeered andfleered at by every body. "

"Work, " said the starling, "ho-ho-ho, work; why, you don't work; you'realways buzzing about, and idling; it's only bees that work and makehoney. "

"There now, " said the wasp, "that's the way you people go on: you hearsomebody say that the bees are industrious and we are idle, and then youbelieve it, and tell everybody else so, but you never take the troubleto see if it's true; and so we poor wasps have to go through the worldwith a bad name, and people say we sting. Well, so we do if we aretouched; and so do bees too, just as bad as we do, only the littlegluttons make a lot of sweet honey and wax, and so they get all thepraise. "

And then away went the little black-and-yellow fellow with his beautifulgauzy wings shining in the sun, and he flew over the garden wall, andwas soon scooping away at a ripe golden-yellow plum that was hangingfrom the wall just ready to pick; and then off he flew again to hisnest, where dozens more wasps were going in and out of the hole in afallen willow-tree, all soft like touchwood, and in it the wasps hadscooped out such a hole, where they had been working away quite as hardand industriously as the bees their cousins; and here they had madecomb, and cells, and stored up food, and instead of their cells beingmade of wax, they were composed of beautiful paper that these busylittle insects had made. There were grubs, too, and eggs that wouldturn to grubs, and afterwards to wasps; and here the wasps worked away, in and out all day, as busy as could be. But they had a very hard lifeof it, for everyone was trying to kill the poor things, and set trapsfor them to tumble into and be smothered in sweet stuff. But thoughpeople did not think so, the wasps did a great deal of good, and amongother things they killed a great many tiresome little flies that werealways buzzing and humming about; and the wasps went after them andcaught them by the back, and then snipped off their wings and head, andflew off and ate the best parts of them up. 

CHAPTER TWELVE. 

BUSY BEES. 

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine round-topped strawhives there were at Greenlawn--hives full of such rich, thick honey, andsuch beautiful combs, and all about these round heavy hives the beeswould hum and buzz of a hot day, flying in and out loaded with honey andpollen; and outside some of the hives the bees would hang down likegreat pockets made of insects, all hanging to one another; and therethey hung, getting ready to swarm and fly off to a new home; but theydid not know how to choose one for themselves, for they would only flyoff to a tree and hang there all of a lump, when the master of Greenlawnwould take a nice, clean, sweet hive and sweep them all into it, and setthem on a board by the side of the other hives. It was such a nice, sweet place, all amongst flowers, and the scent of the honey would comefrom the hives so strongly that very often the birds would come andthink they would like a taste, while the wasps would even go so far asto creep in and steal some of the luscious food. As to flies, theywould come without end, and if they had not been afraid of the bees theywould soon have run off with all the sweet honey. But one day there wasa very serious bluebottle who had sat upon the end of a sweet peawatching the bees so busy, while he had been doing nothing all day butmake a noise, and he felt at last so ashamed of himself, that when hesaw a bee come to the flower he was on, and put his long trunk into itto find whether there was any honey, he began to buzz very loudly; andthe bee, looking up to know what he meant, heard him say--

 "Little bee, buzzing about in the air, For once be not busy, a moment pray spare, And tell me, pray tell me, how honey you make From the flowerets of garden, soft meadow, and brake. You rise with the sun, and your gossamer wing Bears you swiftly away where the heather-bells spring; Whence you come heavy laden with nectary spoil, For the sweet winter stores of your summer of toil. 

 "Oh! I would be busy; and lay up in store For the days of the winter when cold showers pour, And the wild wintry breezes sweep flowers away, While the sun sets in gloom o'er the dim-shadowed day; But I'm a poor bluebottle, spoken of ill; Whilst you are protected, all bear me ill-will; And if I escape from each murderous blow, The first cutting frost lays the bluebottle low. 

 "So little bee buzzing, a lesson pray give; Remember the motto to `live and let live;' For one moment teach me sweet honey to make, That again in the spring-time with you I may wake. "

"Buzz, " said the bee, "that's all very fine, but you were never meant tomake honey. Go and do your duty, and lay eggs in the bad meat to makemaggots to eat it up, so that we may not have the nasty stuff lyingabout. I daresay you think we have a very fine time of it amongst thehoney; but, don't you know, sometimes somebody comes with the brimstoneand smothers us all, and takes the honey away? How should you likethat, old blue-boy?"

"Worse and worse--wuz-z-z-ooz-wooz, " said the bluebottle, and off heflew, and never sang any more songs to the bees; while the old bee burstout laughing so heartily at the way in which the bluebottle wasfrightened, that he let all the bee-bread tumble out of his baskets, andbefore he could pick it up, a bee from another hive flew off with it. 

"There, " said the first bee, "that comes of laughing at other people, and now I've got all my work to do over again; but, oh dear! how he didbustle off when I told him about the brimstone. "

CHAPTER THIRTEEN. 

COLD WEATHER. 

At last the merry summer-time was gone, and the flowers began to hangtheir heads in the gardens, looking wet and soiled; for every now andthen the cold wind would come with a rush and a roar and knock the poorthings about dreadfully; sometimes they would be struck right down onthe ground, where they would lie, never to get up any more. Sometimes, however, the sun would come out to cheer them up again, but he was notat all warm; and then the nights began to grow so long and cold that theflowers had nearly made up their minds to go to sleep for the winter, when Jack Frost sent word one night that he was coming, and hismessenger left such a cold chill everywhere that he had been, that theflowers all went to sleep at once, and the leaves on the trees, turningyellow with fright, began to shake and shiver, and tumble off as hard asever they could tumble, till they lay in great rustling heaps all overthe gravel walks, where they were swept up and carried off into theback-yard. And then all the birds were as busy as ever they could be:the young ones were now strong on the wing, and there were such meetingsand congregations in wood and field--on lawn and in tree--in hedgerowand down even in the ditches. The martins and swallows all said"Good-bye, " and were off in a hurry; and all the other summer visitorswho were lagging behind, when they saw the swallows go, went off as hardas ever they could, not even stopping to take any cold flies with them, they were in such a hurry. Sparrows and finches, they all madeexcursion parties, and went feasting in the stubble-fields; starlings, jackdaws, and rooks, they went worm-picking in the wet marshlands; andall the thrush family went off to the fields and hedgerows, seekingberries and fruits that had now grown tender and sweet; and so at lastGreenlawn began to look very deserted all day, but it was not so of anight, for there would be a fine noise in the ivy, where all thesparrows came home to roost, for they were in such high spirits thatthey could not keep quiet, but kept on chatter, chatter, till it grew sodark they could not see to open their beaks. As to the starlings, theycame home by scores to the warm, thick cedar, and there they whistledand chattered until the moon began to shine, when they, too, went off tosleep; and so, wherever there was a snug, warm spot at Greenlawn, thebirds came back in the cold wintry nights to sleep--flying far-off inthe day-time, but always returning at night. 

They were hard times for the poor birds when Jack Frost had it all hisown way; for in his sharp, spiteful, nip-toes fashion he would freezeand freeze everything until it was all as hard as steel; and then, so asto make sure that by hard work and bill-chipping no worms were dug out, he would powder the ground all over with white snow, so that all thefootmarks were stamped upon it as the birds walked along. Shiver-shiver-shiver; ah! it was cold! and food was so scarce that noone could get anything to eat but the robin-redbreast; and he would goup to the house, and, sitting upon the snow-covered sills, peep in atthe windows with his great round staring eyes, until the master's littlegirls would come and open the sash, and shake all the crumbs out oftheir pinafores; so that the poor cold bird would often get a goodhearty meal. 

Sometimes the sun would come out and shine upon the snow-wreaths, andthey would glitter and sparkle, and turn of the most beautiful colours;while the trees were covered with frost-work that looked more brilliantthan the finest silver that was ever worked. 

But, ah! the poor birds! it was a sad time for them; and they wouldhuddle up together in flocks; and very often got to be so cold andhungry that the country people picked them up half dead, with theirfeathers all ruffled up and their beautiful little bright, beady eyeshalf-shut. Ah! those were sad times at Greenlawn; and the master wouldgladly have helped the poor things if he could; but generally they usedto fly right off, miles away, so that very often not a bird was to beseen but Bob Robin, who kept hopping about the doors and windows. 

But Jack Frost did not care a bit, for he loved freezing; and when thewinter nights were come, with the moon shining, and the stars twinklingand blinking ever so high up, Jack would put on his skates and goskimming over the country, breathing on people's window-panes, andmaking them all over ferny frost-work; hanging icicles round the eavesof the houses; making the roads so hard that they would sound hollow andrattle as the wheels passed over; and turning the ponds, lakes, andrivers into hard ringing ice. Then the frost would hang upon thelabourers' hair, and little knobs of ice upon the bristles about thehorses' muzzles; while some of the branches of the trees would become soloaded with the white clinging snow that they would snap off and fall tothe ground. Away would troop the birds in the day-time then to feastupon the scarlet berries of the holly, the pearly dew-like drops of themistletoe, or the black coaly berries that grew upon the ivy-tod; andaway and away they would fly again with wild and plaintive cries as JackFrost would send a cutting blast in amongst them to scare them away. How the poor birds would look at the man cutting logs of wood to take tothe master's house; and how they would watch the blue smoke and sparkscome curling out of the wide chimneys. In the night the wild geesewould fly over to the moor, crying "Clang-clang-clang, " and frighteningmany a shivering sleeper with their wild shriek; and then thelong-necked birds would dart down from their high swoop to some lonelylake in the wild moor, there to sit upon the cold ice, plumingthemselves ere they started again for some spot where the frost king hadnot all his own way. 

Old Ogrebones, the kingfisher, lay snug at the bottom of his hole in thebank; while all the tender birds were far-off in milder climes, whereflies were to be caught, and where the sun shone bright and warm. As tothe poor ducks, they could do nothing but paddle and straddle about overthe surface of the glassy pond, for almost as soon as the hard ice wasbroken for them to get water, it all froze together again; and in spiteof their thick coats of warm down and feathers, they said it was almosttoo cold to be borne. The rooks had gone down to the sea-side and themouths of the rivers to pick up a living when the tide went down; whileall the other birds that were not in the fields made friends with thesparrows, and went in flocks to the farmyards, where they could findstray grains of corn, and run off with them, chased by the old cocks andhens. And still Jack Frost had it all his own way, and stuck his cold, sharp teeth into everything and everybody--even into the foreignthrushes and grey crows that came over from Norway, Sweden, and Denmark, and nipped them so that they all said they had better have stayed athome. 

Now, all this could not have been borne, only that Jack Frost would goto sleep sometimes, and then down would come a soft, warm rain thatwould wash away the snow and melt the ice, and soften the ground so thatfood became plentiful again; and the birds would set to and make up forlost time by having such a feast as would make them better able to bearJack Frost's next fast, and strong enough to set his sharp teeth atdefiance. 

They were fine times for feasting when the thaw had set in, for then, asthe earth grew soft, the worms would come crawling out to have astretch, after being asleep beneath the iron-bound earth. As for therooks, they ate until they could hardly move, and gormandised in a waythat could only be excused in things that could not get their meals atregular times. "Snip-snap" went the bills all over the marshlands, andgobble-gobble went the poor worms; and so for about a week the birds hadsuch a feast that their skins all got quite tight with the thick jacketof fat that was spread beneath them to keep the cold out, and all theirfeathers began to stick up so that they had plenty of work to smooththem down. But such weather did not last long, for soon Jack Frostwould wake up again, quite cross to think how long he had slept, andthen on he would put his sharp steel skates again, and away over thecountry he would skim with all the land turning to iron wherever hewent, and looking as if the keen old fellow had been sprinkling diamondsand emeralds and pearls all over the ground. As to the sheep, theywould quite rattle with the knobs of ice upon their wool, while theturnips they were nibbling out in the fields were like snowballs. Andaway skimmed Jack Frost by the light of the bright moon, while all thestars kept laughing and winking at his freaks, and soon again all thecountry was powdered over with snow, and the water all turned to ice. Then at night, when the cold cutting wind would hum outside the doorsand sing through all the chinks, trying to get in, people would draw thered curtains close, and heap up the dry logs of wood upon the fire tillthe bright blue flames would dance and flicker, and flicker and dance, and roar up the chimney; but all the time sending such warmth andcomfort through the rooms that the wind would give up trying, and, knowing that it could not battle with such a warm fire, would rush offagain over the bare woods and fields to help Jack Frost, and bear awaythe words of the song he was singing, so that everybody could hear it. For the icy fellow as he skimmed along would laugh and shout to see howeverybody was afraid of him, and lighted fires to keep him away; andthen he would sing, --

 "I kiss cheeks and make them rosy; I make people wrap up cosy; I bring chilblains, chaps, and nipping; I send people quickly tripping. See my breath all silver lacing; Feel my touch how cold and bracing; Come and race o'er ground so snowy; Come and trip 'mid breezes blowy. I'll make little eyes look brightly; I'll make little hearts beat lightly; And when cheeks grow red as cherry, Then will echo voices merry. For I'm Jack Frost who makes cheeks rosy; I make people wrap up cosy; I bring chilblains, chaps, and nipping; But send the little people tripping. "

But in spite of all Jack Frost could do, the birds at Greenlawn wouldmanage to get through the harsh time of winter, looking out for thespring to come again; and happy and contented, though always very busy, and trying hard to do their duty as well when the cold wintry rainsfell, or the biting sleet, or soft falling snow, or even when the groundwas all hard and they were nearly starved, as when plenty reignedaround; for still they hoped on, and waited for spring, that seemed solong in coming, but yet would surely come at last, however long it mightappear, and tire their patience. 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN. 

FALSE ALARM. 

One morning, when a soft breeze from the south had melted away all thesnow, and the bright sun had thawed all the ice in the ditches, brooks, and ponds, everything looked so bright and fine, that the snowdrops andcrocuses popped their heads out of the ground, and kept calling to oneanother across the gravel walk, "All a-growin' and a-blowin', " as themen who bring round the flowers. Two or three violets opened theirlittle blue eyes, too, and poking at the dead leaves that were lying onthem, kept trying to get a peep at the bright sun; for he had had a badcold all through the winter, and had kept his head wrapped up in thickmists and clouds, only showing himself now and then; and when he did, his face looked all red, swelled, and inflamed, as though he had got adreadful fit of neuralgic-tic-doloreuginal-toothache. And now theblue-eyed violets wanted to have a peep at the sun, and to nod at theirold friend; but the leaves lay so wet and heavy upon them that theycould hardly get out, and when they did, poor things, their heads wereall bent down, and they looked as drooping as though their necks werecricked with sleeping in a damp bed. And truly it was a very damp bed--the violets'--all moss and wet grass in a shady bank; but the cheerfullittle flowers did not mind it a bit, but sent forth such a sweet scentall through the hedgerows, that as soon as the birds smelt it they beganto sing, and to think it was time to build nests again. 

"Spring's come! spring's come!" shouted a little chiff-chaff, just comeover from a foreign country all in a hurry; for while he was gettingready, and thinking it was time to pay a visit to England, there came agreat storm of wind, and caught up the little, tiny greeny bird and blewhim right over the seas; and then, because it was a bright day when hegot here, he began running up and down the country crying out "Spring'scome! spring's come!" when spring was only just putting one or two ofher toes in the shape of crocuses and snowdrops out of her wintry bed, to see how cold it was, and whether she might get up yet. 

Spring had not come, for it was too soon, and the stupid littlechiff-chaff thought himself such an important little body that becausehe had come spring must have come too. And no end of mischief he did, for as is always the case when one person does a foolish thing, plentymore begin to follow the bad example; and so one bird after another tookup the cry, till it rang all over Greenlawn that spring had come; andthe birds set to work in such a hurry to repair last year's damagednests or to make new ones. As to the rooks, they came all in a bustleto the old limes and held a parliament, which every now and then turnedinto a squabble about some favourite spot, and there they all stoppedtalking, and flying round and round, but soon began again, to keep ontill it grew quite dark, and then they were silent till some obstinatebird or another would say something crooked, and then out they all burstagain--"Caw-caw-caw, " till the awkward rook was talked down; thensomebody else would have the last word, when they broke out again two orthree times over, till at last it grew so dark that the rooks wereafraid to speak any more, lest somebody should come and upset them upontheir perches, and they not see the enemy coming. 

The next morning everybody began to call the chiff-chaff names, and tosay it was a little cheat; for a sharp sleety rain had been falling forhours and freezing as it fell, so that all the rooks' claws were stuckfast to the tall, top branches of the limes. As to the crocuses, theyhad squeezed themselves up as small as grass, and half crept back intothe earth, while the snowdrops had shut up their houses and pulled downthe green blinds to keep the cold out, and as to the violets, why, theycrept under the dead leaves again to wait for the sun's next appearance. 

No; it was not spring yet, and no one knew it better than the littlechiff-chaff, who had crept into the ivy-tod, where the great dark leavesflopped down, and kept everything dry underneath; and there the poorlittle thing kept dancing the dicky-bird's dance, and going bibbity-bob, bibbity-bobberty, up and down, to keep himself warm, and wishing thatthe great, rough, rude wind had blown somebody else out of the warmcountry to cry "Spring's come; spring's come, " because it happened to bea fine bright sunshiny day. 

But the little bird did not mean to do wrong, and so he stopped in theivy-tod and lived upon cold spider for a whole week, drinking the meltedsleet off the ivy leaves, and wishing all the time that spring had come, for he expected no end of friends and relations over as soon as theweather was fine enough; and, besides, he was anxious to feel the warmweather; for he was rather a delicate little fellow, who was obliged togo to a warm place in the winter time for the benefit of his health, andonly came to spend the fine part of the year at Greenlawn. 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN. 

SPRING AT LAST. 

"Build away, birds; there's no chiff-chaff trickery this time. Springis here, " said the thrush, "and here's all the company coming. All theswallow family are over, and here's the wryneck been playing a tune uponits comb all the morning; as for those sit-up-o'-night birds, they'vebeen sing-sing, till I'm almost tired of it, and wish they would set towork and find something better to do. But what's the matter downthere?"

It was plain that something was the matter, for all the birds wereleaving their work on purpose to go and see what was wrong; for therewas the yard-dog, Boxer, loose in the garden again, barking, andsnapping, and snarling at something rolled up amongst the dead leaves. The thrush flew up, and settling on a low branch, stopped to watch whatwas the matter; and he soon saw, for there, causing all the noise, was atightly-rolled up hedgehog, with his sharp spines sticking up all over, and looking for all the world like a sharp round hair-brush. As forBoxer, he was sniffing and snuffing and pricking his nose in his effortsto get Blacknose open; but the little spikey thing would not open theleast bit in the world, but kept himself rolled up snug and fast, withnothing but spines and thorns sticking out all over him. The more Boxersniffed and poked at the round ball, the more he got pricked, and thenhe held up his head and whined in so comical a way, that all those whowere looking on could not keep from laughing, which made the dog socross that he barked at the birds, and made believe to bite; only theywere all out of reach; and this made him all the more cross andsnappish. 

At last Boxer got the prickly thing close to the bank, and over itrolled right down into an old rabbit's hole, where the dog could notreach it; so then he turned round and ran at the first thing he saw, which happened to be the magpie, who stayed so long upon the groundbefore flying up, that the dog got hold of one of his tail-feathers. 

"Pull, magpie!" shouted the birds. And magpie did pull, as hard as everhe could pull, and fluttered and flew, but he could not get histail-feather away, so had to leave it behind with Boxer, who quietly satdown on the grass and began to gnaw and tear the beautiful glossy greenplume, until he had completely spoiled it, when he threw it away, andbegan to look out for some more fun; whilst poor Mag's tail was so sore, that he went home grumbling and half-crying at his misfortune. 

Busier and busier the birds grew every day; there was no one idle inGreenlawn in spring-time, but all hard at work, build-build-build frommorning, when the first rosy peep of day appeared, and the blackbirdcried out, "Wake-wake-wake, " until the night closed in, and the pale newmoon peeped down from amid the light clouds, watching over the nestingbirds, with their beaks tucked snugly under their wings, and gentlyswaying about upon the light branch that rocked them to sleep with theeasy motion of the soft spring breeze. Sweetly then used to sing thenightingales, perched on the low boughs of the fresh-leaved bushes, andwhistling for their wives, not yet come over the sea; whistling andanswering one another from wood to wood, and from grove to grove, untilthe night rang with the sweet sounds, and bird after bird would draw outits head to listen to the sweet, strong-voiced warblers. But generallythe birds used to grumble at the nightingale, and say it was not fair ofhim to make such a noise of a night. They wanted peace and quietness;and one old greenfinch, who could not sing a bit, and had no ear formusic, used to say that the nightingale was as great a nuisance as oldShoutnight, the owl, and that his noises ought to be stopped. 

But one night there was such a shouting and hoo-hooing that all thebirds woke up in a fright. One asked the other what it meant, but noone knew, and every now and then, ringing through the still night, camethe wild strange cry. Even the master of Greenlawn opened his windowand looked out and wondered, and at last crabby old Todkins, thegardener, opened _his_ window, and even called the birch-broom boy up tolisten; but they could not make out what the noise was. Nobody knew, and at last they began to be like the birds, rather frightened; for itwas such a wild, dreadful cry as they had never heard before. 

"It's a wild goose, " said Mrs Spottleover to her mate. 

"You're a goose, " said Spottleover, all of a shiver. "You never heard agoose cry out like that. It's like a peacock, only ten times morehorrible; and--there it goes again; isn't it dreadful?"

The old owl said it was a rude boy trying to hoot; while the saucyjackdaw said it was nothing to be afraid of, for it was only oldShoutnight with a bad cold. 

But, last of all, out came the old gardener with a lantern in one hand, a stick in the other, and his red nightcap on, to look round the gardenand see what was the matter. No sooner was he out on the lawn than allthe stupid birds began to look about his light to see what it was madeof, and how it was that what they took for a glow-worm should be goingabout the lawn; and still all this while the dreadful cry kept coming, now higher, now lower, and the gardener could not find out what it was;but at last he stood stock-still and scratched his head, until thetassel of his red nightcap went jiffle-iffle, and danced up and downlike a loose leaf on a twig. 

"There, I don't care, " said the gardener; "I'm going home to bed again;so ye may shout all night, whatever ye are, unless ye like to speak. But, hallo, Boxer, boy! what is it?" he said, as the dog laid hold ofhis leg and then ran on before him, turning round every now and then tosee if his master would follow; and at last he did follow the dog tillit stopped, barking and smelling, at the edge of the dip well, where thewater-grotto was, and the cresses grew under the trickling spring--alittle well-like place it was; and just as the old man came up the cryseemed to rise out of the water so wildly and shrilly, that he gave ajump and dropped his lantern. 

Fortunately, however, the lantern did not go out, and so he quicklypicked it up again and held it down, and there, swimming round andround, and unable to get out, was poor Blacknose, the hedgehog, gettingfainter and fainter, and nearly drowned, and crying out for somebody topull him out. 

"Well, only to think of that little thornball making all that noise, "said the gardener, helping the poor thing out and setting it on thegrass; when it was so grateful that it would have thanked him if itcould, but it could not, and so stopped there quite still while Boxerput his cold black nose up to it, and stood wagging his thick stumpytail; for he was too generous a dog to meddle with anyone in trouble, even a hedgehog; and piggy, feeling that he was in distress, and anobject of sympathy, did not even attempt to curl up, but lay quitestill, waiting for his visitors to go. 

"Well, " said the old man, "I suppose I am not going to hurt ye, for themaster won't have anything hurt; so come along, Boxer; and dinna ye befetchin' a chiel oot o' bed at sic a time o' nicht again, or ye may e'enstop i' the water. " And then the old gardener went off to his cottage;and Boxer, after a run back and a scamper round the rescued hedgehog, went to his kennel. 

And so things went on at Greenlawn, year after year, and season afterseason. It may perhaps seem a very wonderful place; but there are agreat many little Greenlawns all over England, where little eyes may seethe birds do many of the things that have been told in this littlestory--a story thought of to please two little girls who were very fondof leaning up against somebody's knee in the evenings before the candleswere lighted, and asking somebody to tell them a story. 

THE END.