FullReads

“I shouldn’t speak to every one, nor trust any other child; but I know you never hurt anything. I’ve watched you a long time, and I like you; so I’m going to reward you by giving you the last wish you made, whatever it is. I can: I’m a wizard, and I know all sorts of magic charms. Put me in my nest, tell me your wish, and you shall have it.”

“Oh, thank you!” cried Betty, joyfully. “I wished to understand what birds say.”

“Dear me, that’s a wish that may make trouble; but I’ll grant it if you won’t tell any one how you learned the secret. I can’t have people coming to me, and my neighbors won’t want their gossip heard by many ears. They won’t mind you, and it will amuse you, poor thing!” said the owl, after a pause.

Betty promised, and, holding the fat bird carefully in her arm, she climbed up the old oak and put him safely in his hole, where he settled himself with a great ruffling of feathers and a hoot of pleasure at being home again.

“Now, pull the tallest bit of down off my right ear and put it in your own; then you will hear what the birds say. Good-night; I’m used up and want to rest,” said the owl, with a gape.

“Thank you,” said Betty, and ran after Daisy, who was slowly eating her way home.

The bit of down lay snugly in Betty’s ear, and in a moment she heard many sweet voices called to one another,–“Good-night!” “Happy dreams!” “A bright to-morrow;” “Lie still, my darlings;” “Hush, my birdie, sleep till day,”–and all sorts of pretty things, as the wood-birds were going to bed with the sun. When she came to the cottage the papa stork was standing on one leg, while the mamma tucked the little ones under her wings, scolding now and then as a red bill or a long leg popped out. The doves were cooing tenderly in the pine that rustled near by, the swallows skimming over the ground to catch and bring their babies a few more gnats for supper, and the wrens were twittering among the roses like the little gossips they were.

“Now I shall know what they all are saying,” cried Betty, trying to hear the different voices; for there were so many going at once it was difficult to understand the sweet new language.

So she milked Daisy, set the table, and made ready for her father, who was often late, then took her bowl of bread and milk and sat on the door-step listening with all her might. She always strewed crumbs for the wrens, and they flew down to eat without fear. To-night they came, and as they pecked they talked, and Betty understood every word.

“Here’s a fine soft bit, my love,” said the papa, as he hopped briskly about, with his bright eye on the little girl. “Have a good supper while I feed the children. The child never forgets us, and saves me many a long journey by giving us these nice crumbs. I wish we could do something for her.”

“So do I, and quite tire my wits trying to make some plan to give her pleasure. I often wonder why the little Princess up at the palace has so much and our dear Betty so little. A few of the books and toys that lie about up there would make this child so happy. It is a pity no one thinks of it;” and the kind Mamma Wren sighed as she ate a nice bit close to Betty’s bare foot.

“If she was not so shy and would let people speak to her, I think she would soon make friends, she is so pretty and gay,” answered the papa, coming back for another load for the hungry babies in the nest.

“The Princess has heard of her and wants to see her. I heard the maids talking about it to-day when I went to call on Cousin Tomtit in the palace garden. They said her Highness was to drive through the pine wood early to-morrow morning to breathe the fresh air, and hoped to see the Brownie and the pretty white cow. Now, if Betty only knew it, she might gather a posy of cowslips, and when the little lady comes give them to her. That would please her very much and bring Betty some pretty gift; for her Highness is generous, though sadly spoilt, I’m afraid.”