Life and Adventures of Santa Claus & Other Christmas Novels. Люси Мод Монтгомери

matters in the highest quarters. And, of course—considering his world-wide fame as a songster——'

      'No sparring—no satirical remarks, gentlemen,' put in a bird who had not yet spoken. It was a blackbird, and all listened to him with respect. 'We should give example of nothing but peace and unity to these unfeathered visitors of ours, otherwise they might carry away a most mistaken idea of our habits and principles and of the happiness in which we live.'

      'Certainly—certainly,' agreed the crow. 'It was but a little amiable repartee, Mr. Blackbird. My young friend Sparrow has not quite thrown off the—the slight—sharpness of tone acquired, almost unconsciously, by a long residence in cities.'

      'And you, my respected friend,' observed the sparrow, 'are naturally—but we can all make allowance for each other—not altogether indisposed to croak. But these are trifling matters in no way interfering with the genuine brotherliness and good feeling in which we all live together in this favoured land.'

      A gentle but general buzz, or twitter rather, of applause greeted this speech.

      'And now to business,' said the robin. 'What are we to arrange for the amusement of our young friends?'

      'A remark reached my ears—I may explain, in passing, that some members of my family have a little nest just under the eaves of the castle, and—and—I now and then hear snatches of conversation—not, of course, that we are given to eavesdropping—of course, none of my family could be suspected of such a thing—but, as I was saying, a remark reached my ears that our young friends would like to visit what, in human language, would be called our king's palace—that is to say, the eyrie of the great eagle at the summit of the forest,' said a swallow, posing his awkward body ungracefully on one leg and looking round for approval.

      'Nothing easier,' replied the robin. 'We are much obliged to you for the suggestion, Mr. Swallow. If it meets with approval in the highest quarters, I vote that we should carry it out.'

      Another twitter of approval greeted this speech.

      'And when shall the visit take place?' asked the wood-pigeon softly, 'and how shall it be accomplished?'

      'As to when, that is not for us to decide,' said the robin. 'As to how, I should certainly think a voyage through the air would be far the greatest novelty and amusement. And this, by laying our wings all together, we can easily arrange. The first thing we have to do is to submit the idea for approval, and then we can all meet together again and fix the details. But now I think we should be on the wing to regain our nests. Besides, our young friends will be awaking soon. It would not do for them to see us here assembled in such numbers. It might alarm them.'

      'That is true,' said the crow. 'Their education in some respects has been neglected. They have not enjoyed the unusual advantages of Waldo and Silva. But still—they are very good children, in their way.'

      This last speech made Maia so angry that, forgetting all pretence of being asleep, she started up to give the old crow a bit of her mind.

      'You impertinent old croaker,' she began to say, but to her amazement there was neither crow nor bird of any kind to be seen! Maia rubbed her eyes—was she, or had she been dreaming? No, it was impossible. But yet, how had all the birds got away so quickly, without the least flutter or bustle, and in less than half a second? She turned to Rollo and gave him a shake.

      'Rollo,' she said, 'do wake up, you lazy boy. Where have they all gone to?'

      CHAPTER X.

       A SAIL IN THE AIR.

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      'Bright are the regions of the air,

       And among the winds and beams

       It were delight to wander there.'

      Shelley.

      'What are you talking about?' said Rollo, sitting up, and in his turn rubbing his eyes. 'Where have "who" gone to?'

      'The birds, of course,' replied Maia. 'You can't be so stupid, Rollo, as not to have seen them.'

      'I've been asleep,' said the poor boy, looking rather ashamed of himself. 'What birds were they? Did you see them? I have a queer sort of feeling,' and he hesitated, looking at Maia as if she could explain it, 'as if I had dreamt something about them—as if I heard some sort of music through my sleep. What did you see, Maia? do tell me.'

      Maia described it all to him, and he listened with the greatest interest. But at the end he made an observation which roused her indignation.

      'I believe you were dreaming too,' he said. 'Nobody ever heard of birds speaking like that.'

      'And yet you say you heard something of it through your sleep? Is it likely we both dreamt the same thing all of ourselves?'

      'But I didn't dream that birds were talking,' objected Rollo. 'They can't talk.'

      Maia glanced at him with supreme contempt.

      'Can squirrels talk?' she said. 'Would anybody believe all the things we have seen and done since we have been in this Christmas-tree land? Think of our drives in godmother's carriage; think of our finding our way through a tree's trunk; think of godmother herself, with her wonderful ways and her beautiful dress, and yet that she can look like a poor old woman! Would anybody believe all that, do you think? And we know it's all true; and yet you can't believe birds can talk! Oh, you are too stupid.'

      Rollo smiled; he did not seem vexed.

      'I don't see that all that prevents it being possible that you were dreaming all the same,' he said. 'But dreams are true sometimes.'

      'Are they?' said Maia, looking puzzled in her turn. 'Well, what was the use of going on so about birds never talking, then? Never mind, now; just wait and see if what I've told you doesn't come true. I shall go, Rollo; if the birds come to fetch us to go to see the eagle, I shall go.'

      'So shall I,' said Rollo coolly. 'I never had the slightest intention of not going. But we must go home now, Maia; it's getting late, and you know we were not to stay long to-day.'

      'Where's Nanni?' said Maia.

      'Perhaps the birds have flown off with her,' said Rollo mischievously. But for a moment or two neither he nor Maia could help feeling a little uneasy, for no Nanni was to be seen! They called her and shouted to her, and at last a sort of grunt came in reply, which guided them to where, quite hidden by a little nest of brushwood, Nanni lay at full length, blinking her eyes as if she had not the slightest idea where she was.

      As soon as she saw them, up she jumped.

      'Oh, I am so ashamed,' she cried. 'What could have come over me to fall asleep like that, just when I thought I should have got such a great piece of Master Rollo's stockings done! And you have been looking for me, lazy girl that I am! But I can assure you, Miss Maia, when I first sat down I was not here—I was sitting over there,' and she pointed to another tree-stump a little way off, 'not asleep at all, and knitting so fast. There are fairies in the wood, Miss Maia,' she added in a lower voice. 'I've thought it many a time, and I'm more sure than ever of it now. I don't think we should come into the woods at all, I really don't.'

      'We shouldn't have anywhere to walk in, then,' said Rollo. 'I don't see why you should be afraid of fairies, Nanni, even supposing there are any. They've never done us any harm. Now, have they?'

      But though she could not say they had, Nanni did not look happy. She was one of those people that did not like anything she did not understand. Maia gave Rollo's sleeve a little pull as a sign to him that he had better not say any more, and then they set off quickly walking back to the castle.

      For some days things went on as usual, though every morning when she got up and every evening when she went to bed Maia wondered if the summons would not come soon. She went all round the castle, peeping up into the eaves to see if she could find the swallows' nest; but she did not succeed, and