ionship in the ark. But where was Father
Noah? Where was the ark? On all the rolling sea of water there was no
movement of life, no sign of any human presence. Then the Kingfisher
remembered her errand, and how carelessly she had performed it. She had
been bidden to return quickly; but she had wasted many hours--she could
not tell how many--in her forgetful flight. And now she was to be
punished indeed, if she could not find her master and the ark of refuge.

The poor Kingfisher looked wildly about. She fluttered here and there,
backward and forward, over the weary stretch of waves, crying piteously
for her master. He did not answer; there was no ark to be found. The sun
set and the night came on, but still she sought eagerly from east to
west, from north to south, always in vain. She could never find what she
had so carelessly lost.

The truth is that during her absence the Dove, who had done her errand
faithfully, returned at last with the olive leaf which told of one spot
upon the earth's surface at last uncovered by the waves. Then the ark,
blown hither and thither by the same storm which had driven the
Kingfisher to fly upward into the ether-blue, had drifted far and far
to Mount Ararat, where it ran aground. And Father Noah, disembarking
with his family and all the assembled animals, had broken up the ark,
intending there to build him a house out of the materials from which it
was made. But this was many, many leagues from the place where the poor
Kingfisher, lonely and frightened, hovered about, crying piteously for
her master.

And even when the waters dried away, uncovering the earth in many
places, so that the Kingfisher could alight and build herself a nest,
she was never happy nor content, but to this day flies up and down the
water-ways of the world piping sadly, looking eagerly for her dear
master and for some traces of the ark which sheltered her. And the
reflection which she makes in the water below shows an azure-blue body,
like a reflection of the sky above, with some of the breast-feathers
scorched to a rusty red. And now you know how it all came about.

THE WREN WHO BROUGHT FIRE

Centuries and centuries ago, when men were first made, there was no such
thing as fire known in all the world. Folk had no fire with which to
cook their food, and so they were obliged to eat it raw; which was very
unpleasant, as you may imagine! There were no cheery fireplaces about
which to sit and tell stories