t
mean to notice any hints; "you'll be late for Miss Grey."

He took up the basket and gave his brother a meaning look. David's face
fell. He would have liked to see Jack put into the cage, but he had
promised not to want to go in. As he turned away rather unwillingly the
doctor's voice fell on his ear.

"No," it said. "David shall stay too and help. I will ask Miss Grey to
excuse him if he is late."

Very soon the two boys, with Dr Budge looking seriously on, had taken
Jack out of his basket and put him, in spite of pecks and struggles,
into the wicker cage. When this was hung in the medlar-tree just above
the bench, he became more composed, and seemed even proud of his new
position, but stood in perfect silence, turning his cold grey eye
downwards on the doctor and the boys.

"He doesn't look as if he meant to call," remarked David, "but I daresay
he'll wait till we're gone."

Although they were all unwilling to leave the jackdaw alone, it did not
seem to be of any use to stay there looking at him any longer. The
doctor and Ambrose therefore went indoors to their books, and David ran
quickly home to his lessons. But it was harder work than usual to
attend to Latin verbs and declensions, and Ambrose wondered if Dr
Budge's thoughts were as much with the jackdaw as his own.

The window looking into the garden had been left a little open so that
any unusual noise could be plainly heard in the room, but for some time
only the squeak of the doctor's pen broke the silence. Ambrose began to
despair. It would be very disappointing to find that the call-bird was
a failure, and very sad for the doctor to be without a jackdaw. Should
he give him his? He was fond of his jackdaw, but then he had other
pets, and the doctor was so lonely. He had only old brown books and
curiosities to bear him company.

Just as he was turning this over in his mind, there came a sudden and
angry cawing noise from the garden. Ambrose looked up and met the
doctor's eye; without a word they both started up and made for the
garden.

There was such a noise that the medlar-tree seemed to be full of
jackdaws engaged in angry dispute, but when they got close under it,
they found that there were only two. Ambrose's bird stood in the wicker
cage, making himself as tall and upright as he could, with all the
feathers on his head proudly fluffed up. He was uttering short
self-satisfied croaks, which seemed to add to the rage of the other