ed. However, the nurse had her
suspicions of their bush, so she walked straight up to it and then round
it.

"Well, I do declare," she said at last, "there's a nest, and that's what
you've been after, is it? Well, of all the nasty, horrid little things
that ever I saw these birds are the nastiest. Bless me, I wonder now how
they get along, and no nurse to look after them."

_What fun they must have_, was Willie's secret thought. They could rove
about the country at their "own sweet will," and never think about
tumbling their clothes. But then he remembered that the birds hadn't got
any clothes to speak of, and that, as yet, they couldn't even fly. He
therefore began to wonder how they did manage without a nurse, and
thought he should like to try, just for a week or two, how _he_ could
get along without one. What climbings, delightful wanderings, and
general mischief presented themselves to his childish imagination!
_what_ fun he and Alice would have!

"Whatever bird is it?" said the nurse.

"_Our_ Blackbird," replied Willie, with an air of considerable
importance.

"_Your_ Blackbird!" she said; "why, whatever does the child mean? Well,
anyhow, the gardener will soon make short work of the Blackbirds, nasty
mischievous things!--why, they eat up all the fruit, and destroy the
flowers."

"Oh, Nanny," cried the little boy sadly, "don't say that, our Blackbird
is so good, he sings beautifully, and we are so fond of him. The
gardener mustn't kill our Blackbird." Tears stood in the soft brown
eyes, and Nanny, who was really a kind-hearted woman, hastened to say
that she didn't at all suppose that that particular Blackbird would be
killed, it was only that birds in general were such destructive
creatures, that the fewer of them there were left about, the better.

Willie, however, was not altogether consoled, and he could not help
feeling that Nanny was not so sympathetic as she might be about his dear
Blackbird. Still he hoped for the best, and determined, at the very
earliest opportunity, to entreat the gardener to spare every Blackbird,
young and old, for the sake of his particular friend.

All this had happened in the spring, some months before, and it was now
July. The young Blackbirds, hatched in April, had been out and abroad in
the world some weeks. They were not yet quite full grown, and still
depended upon their parents for help and advice. The parent birds,
however, had not a little to do, for by this time t