the children in search of Pan. He gave them the fullest
instructions as to how they should address the Sylvan Deity, and then,
having received the admonishments of the Thin Woman of Inis Magrath, the
children departed in the early morning.

When they reached the clearing in the pine wood, through which the sun
was blazing, they sat down for a little while to rest in the heat. Birds
were continually darting down this leafy shaft, and diving away into the
dark wood. These birds always had something in their beaks. One would
have a worm, or a snail, or a grasshopper, or a little piece of wool
torn off a sheep, or a scrap of cloth, or a piece of hay; and when they
had put these things in a certain place they flew up the sun-shaft again
and looked for something else to bring home. On seeing the children each
of the birds waggled his wings, and made a particular sound. They said
"caw" and "chip" and "twit" and "tut" and "what" and "pit"; and one,
whom the youngsters liked very much, always said "tit-tittit-tit-tit."
The children were fond of him because he was so all-of-asudden. They
never knew where he was going to fly next, and they did not believe he
knew himself. He would fly backwards and forwards, and up and down, and
sideways and bawways--all, so to speak, in the one breath. He did this
because he was curious to see what was happening everywhere, and, as
something is always happening everywhere, he was never able to fly in
a straight line for more than the littlest distance. He was a cowardly
bird too, and continually fancied that some person was going to throw
a stone at him from behind a bush, or a wall, or a tree, and these
imaginary dangers tended to make his journeyings still more wayward and
erratic. He never flew where he wanted to go himself, but only where God
directed him, and so he did not fare at all badly.

The children knew each of the birds by their sounds, and always said
these words to them when they came near. For a little time they had
difficulty in saying the right word to the right bird, and sometimes
said "chip" when the salutation should have been "tut." The birds always
resented this, and would scold them angrily, but after a little practice
they never made any mistakes at all. There was one bird, a big, black
fellow, who loved to be talked to. He used to sit on the ground beside
the children, and say "caw" as long as they would repeat it after him.
He often wasted a whole morning in talk, but