ss once more--the birds resumed their conversation, and the girl
made another slight movement forward. This time she disturbed no twig,
and interrupted none of the bird gossip. She was near, very near, a
tempting green bough, and on the bough sat two full-grown lovely
thrushes; they were not singing, but were holding a very gentle and
affectionate conversation, sitting close together, and looking at one
another out of their bright eyes, and now and then kissing each other
with that loving little peck which means a great deal in bird life.

The girl felt her heart beating with excitement--the birds were within
a few inches of her--she could see their breasts heaving as they
talked. Her own eyes were as bright as theirs with excitement; she got
quite under them, made a sudden upward, dexterous movement, and laid a
warm, detaining hand on each thrush. The deed was done--the little
prisoners were secured. She gave a low laugh of ecstasy, and sitting
upright in the long grass, began gently to fondle her prey, cooing as
she talked to them, and trying to coax the terrified little prisoners to
accept some kisses from her dainty red lips.

"Poll! Where's Polly Parrot?--Poll--Poll--Poll!" came a chorus of
voices. "Poll, you're wanted at the house this minute. Where are you
hiding?--You're wanted at home this minute! Polly Parrot--where are
you, Polly?"

"Oh, bother!" exclaimed the girl under her breath; "then I must let you
go, darlings, and I never, never had two of you in my arms at the same
moment before. It's always so. I'm always interrupted when I'm enjoying
ecstasy. Well, good-by, sweets. Be happy--bless you, darlings!"

She blew a kiss to the released and delighted thrushes, and stood
upright, looking very lanky and cross and disreputable, with bits of
grass and twig sticking in her hair, and messing and staining her faded,
washed cotton frock.

"Now, what are you up to, you scamps?--can't you let a body be?"

"Oh, Polly!"

Two little figures came tumbling down the gravel walk at the other side
of the wire fence. They were hot and panting, and both destitute of
hats.

"Polly, you're wanted at the house. Helen says so; there's a b-b-baby
come. Polly Perkins--Poll Parrot, you'd better come home at once,
there's a new b-b-baby just come!"

"A _what_?" said Polly. She vaulted the dyke, cleared the fence, and
kneeling on the ground beside her two excited, panting little brothers,
flung a hot, detaining arm round eac