l crack, through which they saw grass, pale in the moonshine. As
they crept on, they found the hole began to get wider and lead upwards.

"What is that noise of rushing?" said Buffy-Bob.

"I can't tell," replied Tricksey; "for, you see, I don't know what we
are in."

The fact was, they were creeping along a channel in the heart of a
giant tree; and the noise they heard was the noise of the sap rushing
along in its wooden pipes. When they laid their ears to the wall, they
heard it gurgling along with a pleasant noise.

"It sounds kind and good," said Tricksey. "It is water running. Now it
must be running from somewhere to somewhere. I think we had better go
on, and we shall come somewhere."

It was now rather difficult to go on, for they had to climb as if they
were climbing a hill; and now the passage was wide. Nearly worn out,
they saw light overhead at last, and creeping through a crack into the
open air, found themselves on the fork of a huge tree. A great, broad,
uneven space lay around them, out of which spread boughs in every
direction, the smallest of them as big as the biggest tree in the
country of common people. Overhead were leaves enough to supply all the
trees they had ever seen. Not much moonlight could come through, but
the leaves would glimmer white in the wind at times. The tree was full
of giant birds. Every now and then, one would sweep through, with a
great noise. But, except an occasional chirp, sounding like a shrill
pipe in a great organ, they made no noise. All at once an owl began to
hoot. He thought he was singing. As soon as he began, other birds
replied, making rare game of him. To their astonishment, the children
found they could understand every word they sang. And what they sang
was something like this:--

"I will sing a song.
I'm the Owl."
"Sing a song, you Sing-song
Ugly fowl!
What will you sing about,
Night in and Day out?"

"Sing about the night;
I'm the Owl."
"You could not see for the light,
Stupid fowl."
"Oh! the Moon! and the Dew!
And the Shadows!--tu-whoo!"

The owl spread out his silent, soft, sly wings, and lighting between
Tricksey-Wee and Buffy-Bob, nearly smothered them, closing up one under
each wing. It was like being buried in a down bed. But the owl did not
like anything between his sides and his wings, so he opened his wings
again, and the children made haste to get out. Tricksey-Wee immediately
went in front of the bird