ssed the most profuse.

'How very well you look, my dear,' said one,
'That shade of red
Upon your head,
So sweet; and how _delightfully_ your hair is done.'

And each had gratifying things to say,
With gushing smile,
Upon the style
Of all the others' holiday array.

Then Mrs. Goose, with most superior sneer,
Said, 'Have you seen
That dress of green
That Mrs. Peacock's wearing now, my dear?

'She looks a perfect guy, and then--her feet
And legs! Oh, lor!
I never saw
A bird so clumsy, or so indiscreet.

'I met her at the Concert Hall last week,
A poor affair,
I do declare,
I wonder that the Songsters have such cheek.

'Miss Nightingale was singing far too loud;
I never heard
So harsh a bird,
I wonder how she dared to face the crowd.

'Miss Thrush had quite a decent voice, I hear,
Some years ago
(A score or so),
But now her voice is giving way, I fear.

'She sang as badly as did Mrs. Lark,
Who all agreed,
Had every need
Of lessons, to bring _her_ up to the mark.

'Miss Linnet had a really dreadful cough.
As for the rest,
They quite distressed
The company. Well, good-by, dears. I'm off.'

And, while the Spoonbill and the other bird
Went on their way,
I heard one say,
'That Mrs. Goose is really most absurd.

'She talks about the Peacock's gaudy dress:
If she prefers
That gray of hers,
I don't admire her taste, I must confess.
'And as for legs and feet--well, I declare,
The pair she's got
Are really not
The kind that I'd be seen with anywhere.

'While as for singing, that _she_ should complain
Of other folk
Is past a joke,
I vow I'll not be friends with her again.'

'My dear,' the other said, 'remember this:
A critic she
Of high degree,
For though she can't sing well, the goose can _hiss_.'"

The Sage had scarcely finished when a sound of weeping and wailing was
heard, and presently a whole troop of gnomes appeared in the onion
field. They were crying bitterly, and to the children's great surprise
several of them had grown enormously tall and others equally stout.

They came straight up to the Sage's hu