them. Wlien I was dowi stairs again in m...

them. Wlien I was dowi stairs again in my littlo back room there was a great surprise awaiting me. Nailed against the w-all, under my father's cabinet sized photograph, was a brand new ornament - a little carving in oak of a dead bird hanging by its claws downward, and with every feather wonderfully delineated. I stared at it with intense astonishment, and Bridget stood in the background with a, grin on her face from ear to ear. "Wrhere did this come from? Good gracious, how beautif ui ! how - well I never did!" My thoughts flashed to Mr. Goode, for he was liberal at times, and grateful for any little attentions in his widowerhood's estáte in the shape of darning stockings or re-establishing the security of buttons; but the truth soon came out, and then I was more astonished than ever. "If you please, m'm, it's the young man who lost his umbereller," explained Bridget, with a loud guffaw at last and a violent stamping of both her big Irish feet, like an excitable person with a bone in her throat. "What!" "Yes, m'm," continued Bridget; "and I was to say nothing about it to auybody but you - and uot till you wero dowu stairs agaia - because he wouldn't have you worried about anything, he said, not for worlds." "He said all that?" "Yes, m'm." "But, bless the man," I exclaimed, "what has he left this here for?" "It's - it's a prisent, m'm, I'm thinking." "A present to me, and frotn that impertinent being!" I said; 'TU see about his present presently. When did he come?" "He's been here every day, m'm." "Every day?" "Twice a day," Bridget replied. "And the day you were so ill he carne three times, to make sure the doctors weren't killing you." "It's very extraordinary." "He is 'stronary, m'm," asserted Bridget, "shure, and there's not much doubt of it. The way he axed me and badgered me about that umbereller, m'm, every day after you were took ill, you'd have thought he was a judge -and jury rolled into one- and Sarah, too, poor critter." "I never heard of such behavior in my life. "Right ye are, Miss Neild, as far as that goes; but when Sarah bust out crying at last he was very sorry and gave her 'arf a crown ; and so he did me, m'm, like a real gentleman, when I thought it was quite time I cried, too, when 'arf crowns were flying about like that." "That'll do, Bridget," I said, for Bridget when loquacious was familiar. "When was he here last?" "This morning." "Indeed." "And I told him you were quite come round, and he said, 'That's a good job,' and went away." "Do you think he'U return?" "I don't think so, m'm, for he said, 'Goodby, Bridget; mind you take careof her,' as he walked hisself off." "Did he say anything else?" "N- no, m'm, I don't seem to recollect" "Answer me truthíully, Bridget; what else did he say?" "Sorry a word, else, except he hoped Márgate would do you a power of good. " "Ho w did he know I was goiug to Márgate?" I inquired. "That's more nor mortal can say, m'm. He knows a great deal more about other people's affairs than he ought. He interiores like, doesn't he? He's a terrible curious young man." "Bridget, you have something more to teil me, I'm sure you have." "Oh! MissNeild." "How dareyoudeceiveme! how daré" "Mercy on us, my dear mistress, don't go and throw yourself all the way back agin by flaring off like this. I'll tell ye evrything, and it's not much, after all, ií ye'll only keep cool and comfor'ble." "Well- go on." "And ye niay give me a month's warning and send me away afterward, if ye'll only be cool, miss, and don't blame mo too much jest at prisint." "Why don't you explain?" "Well, then, he took it into his head Mr. Goode had got his umbereller or else Capt. Choppers, and ono day, when they were both out, he axed me to let him look into their rooms, and I did, m'm- and, begorra, I shouldn't have been surprised if either of 'em had got it, mane souls that they are, with never a kind word to those who aro slaving their hearts out for 'em, and" "Bridget, go downstairs directly." "To be sure, m'm, I will if ye don't want me any more." Bridget departed, and it dawned upon me that she had been iuibibing just a little and this had occurred once before, when papa was alive. And she had too, but it was for joy that I was better, and to drink good luck to me, she afterward confessed, and I forgave her, especially as on the next day she joined the Blue Ribbon movement, in sheer contriteness of spirit, and was f orever af terward- that is, up till now - a worthy, if humblc, member of society. But this Mr. Geoffry Bird, how the man didtrouble me! How his nasty, suspicious nature had led him to poke and pry about my establishment, and to take advantage of my helplessness, and the proneness of Bridget and Sarah for half crowns, to ransaek the whole place! My blood boiled with indignation. And then hls present- if it were a present - obtrusively nailed against the wall, too, as if I cared for his carvings, or did anything but despise his miserable manners and his uncharitable self. He could not take my word that no one had stolen his umbrella, oh dear, no! He must provo for self that I was not speaking the truth. How Ihated him! I was recommended to take a drive next day, and I hired a hansom cab and went to Goswell road, Islington, with the carved bird. I discovered No. 967 t last, and f ouud the house empty, and a bilí, with "Thia House to Let," pasted upon the shutters. Mr. Geoffry Bird had left the noighborhood within the last few days, and no one in Goswell road knew what had become of hira. So I had my journey for nothing, and all the expenses of payment for carrying me through the heartof the big city, whero there was not a breath of air stirring that hot day. I do not thiuk the drive did me any good, I was so terribly vexed that Mr. Bird was not to be discovered, and that I had to return to Progsiter street with his hateful carving on my lap. I would have thrown it out of the cab only I was afraid of hitting somebody between the eyea and creating an uproar in the metropolis. "Put that wretched thlng away whero I can't see it," I said to Bridget on my return. "Yes, m'm; leavo it to me, m'm." "I don't mean where we can't find it," I added, meeting a decisivo expression in Bridget O'Gowan's green eyes that alanned me; "the man may cali again, althougb I doubt it very much." Next wk I was strongenough to join tha Brians at Márgate- that salubrious retreat where one meets everybody he knows, if h only waits long enough. And on the jetty extensión that evening I met Capt. Choppers and Mr. Goode, who had both come down "by accident," and who had been passing ech other on the jetty all the evening M tbough they had never met in tho whole courso oí their lives. Mr. Goode's two sons were in Márgate also, but, having fallen headlong into the water while fishing, had gone home to bed while their suits were being dried. And the next morning whom should I meet face to face, and smiling as vigorous'y as ever, but Geoffry Bird, the carver. It was early morning, when few people were stirring, and I had gone for a walk along tho fort to put my blood in circulation and get an appetite for breakfast. The Brians were not early risers, and I knew it was no use calling at their apartments till 8:30o'clock. Mr. Bird was ciad in a dark blue pilot suit, with a vei-y yellow straw hat set on the back of his head and a large telescope under his arm. He was supremely nautical, aud I took him for somebody rather high in the coast guard service - a sergeant or something - bef ore he raised his hat and came with an antelope kind of spring toward me. "Miss Neild," he exclaimed, "I am so very glad to see you about again. You really canuot imagine how glad I am!" "I don't understand why it should occasion you any pleasure, sir," I said, in my most reserved tone of voice. "Don't you, though? Oh, well, I'll teil you." He turned and walked by my side, and I did not see on the instant how it was possible to get rid of him. I feit my equanimity was seriously disturbed by his appearance, by his insufferable obtrusiveness. This was part and parcel of his ordinary behavior - a total want of forethought, which was as evident that day as in the small hours of the morning when he had roused me out of my first sleep by nearly battering the houso down. He alluded to that little incident at once. In ans wering me that unlucky night, Miss Neild, you nearly caught your death," ho explained, "and nobody can imagine how miserable I was - how desperately wretehed - until I heard you were out of danger. I shouid have never f orgiven myself , upon my honor, and I did not know a moment's peace till Bridget, your girl, told me you were out of danger. Lor', what a trial it -asl" "I don't see why - I don't understand at all - I" "I can just fancy how a man feels who haa committed a murder and is not found out yet," he continued; "it was dreadful, and all my own fault, too- every scrap of it." I did not feel so bitterly toward him after this. His manner was genuine, if too forcible and fluent f or everyday wear. I might have even thanked him for his exaggerated interest in my health and said good morning, if I had not suddenly remembered his surreptitious visits to my lodgers' apartments. T jen I was adamant, and he saw it. He waa cortainly an observant man, whom very little escaped. I noticed the broad smile disappear, and ho said, almost with astonishment: "Why, you're offended with me stilll" "As I have only seen you once bef ore in my life, I cannot very well speak of being ott'ended, Mr. Bird- but I must say" "No. no, don't say it," he cried, interrupting me, "don't say a word more, please. I- I know it was a gre.it liberty - an unwarrantable liberty- but I could't help it. I wanted to make a little return for all the trouble and misery I had brought about, and I couldn't think of anything else. I had just done it, vou see." "Done what!" I exclaimed, snappishly- I could have screamed at him for two pins. "Why, the little bit of carving- aren't you talking about thatf' he inquired. "No, sir, although Til trouble you to reraove the article from my premises as soon as you conveniently can." "Oh!" "Butlam alluding now, sir, to your ungentlemanly behavior in bribing my servante to let you inspect my apartments." "I didn't bribe your servants, Miss Neild. Poor giris, I frightened them, but I did not give them money as a bribe. You might have thought better of a fellow than that," he said, vt-ry sorrowfully; "although why you should I don't know exaetly." "You had no right to go into my lodgers' rooms and search for that trumpery umbrella you lost." "No right!" he repeatcd. "Certainly- no right." "Butonoof thosetwoold beggars hasgot it," he oried, energetically ; 'Tin sure of that." "How daré you say this to me!" "Who else can it be? I know you haven't got it," he cried. "I am sure your two servants are as innocent as babes unborn, and they wero the only two besides in the house that night-the upstairs lot had gono to Tunbridge for two days." "How did you know that?" "Oh, I made overy inquiry," he explained, coolly; "and as the umbreUa was a precious possession to me - I think I told you before it was a gift f rom my father on his dying bed -I made every effort to find out what had become of it." "And a very mean way to find out it was," Isaid, with asperity; '.'and- good morning." "Go-ood morning," he said, in a low, croaking voice. He raised his bilious straw hat, dropped his telescope, which he picked up and tucked once more under his arm, carne suddenly to a full stop, and let me go on my way unmolested auy íurther by him. When I had got a good distanee írom him, I began to feel a little sorry- even a little in doubt if I had uot been too hard upon him. He had appeared so utterly dumfounded by my last opinión of his conduot, and he had turned of such a variety of eoiors. Perhaps, from his point of Tiew, and with an umbrella which had vanished from every point of view, he was not wholly to be blamed. Perhaps the captain had- no, that was quite impossible. Perhaps Mr. Goode - oh! I was getting as miserably distrustful as this uuhappy man. Yes, I was a little sorry. As I went off the fort I stole ono glance behind me to inake sure what had becorae of him- that hia impulsive nature even had not led him to jump off the eliff. He was all right ; he was a long way off- indoed, in tho very place where I had left him- not overwhelmed or mad with grief and shame, as I had almost feared he might be, but standing with his legs planted widely apart looking at me through his telescope. When he saw I had turned he wheeled quickly round and feigned an interest in the sea, knocking the hat off a bath chairman just passing him with au early fare who had lost the use of his legs. WelJ, tuero is an end of tho intruder, I thought, and I could have wished- yes, I did actually wish- that I had been more of a young lady and less of a visen in my roproaches to him. I had been put out by his appearanee at Márgate, by his venturing to address me, and had lost my self composure, but then a more obtuse and aggravating persou I had never encountered before. Not so very obtuse either, but very quick to tako a hint and to guess when he was disliked and his company objeeted to. We passed each other twiee or thrice a day af ter that, but ho oever veutured to speak to me again. He bowed with great gruvity and exhibited extraordinary formality in taking off his hat, seizing it in the mlddleof the erown and ralslng it liko the lid oflf a saucepan, and thoro was no further occasion to object to his expansivo smile. He was a Btolid, even a woebegono youug man, with something on his mind. Had it not been for that everl.isting telescope under liis arm ona cotildhavo imagined bim a prey to the deej estrooted sorrow. I thiuk he was the most sad when I paawd him in company with the captain who sometimes condescended to promenade with me, and the most angry when I was out with Mr. Goode, to whom I was a relief from the wear and tear of two boys wonderfully full of animal spirits on unseasonable occasions. When I was with Lily Brian, ho saomed to brighten up a little, and Lily was curious concerning him, and askod me many questions. 'Who is that good looking young man, Jane, who is always taking his bat oiïi" she asked one morning. "He is a carver and gilder; I don't know him - that is, I hardly know him," I said. "He called once about something he had dropped down our área, and he has claimed an acquaintance ever since." "Then why doesu't he speakf" asked the practical Lily. 'He's much too quick with his speech; and U's a very good thing he'ï a tritio quieter just now," I said, sharply, and Lily looked at me and said, eag-erly, "Teil me all about i ! I Is he" "No, ho is not." "Oh, I beg your pardon, Jane; I thought he was." An enigmatic dialogue, but we perfectly imderstood oach other. And I hoped that I had made Lily understand I had no interest in Mr. Bird, for young girls jump so rapidly at conclusions where young men are concernod. Not that Lily was in the habit of jumping af ter young men in any way - I do not mean to convey that impression. Lily was full of spirits, but a good girl in every respect, with not an atom's worth of the ordinary Márgate jetty gírl in her constitution ; not she. Stül, curiously enough, I was deeeived in and by Lily Brian. I had no idea she could have been so cunning or bo sasily deeeived. One morning when I walked down the jetty I found to my intense astonishment Mr. and Mre. Brian, Lily, George, the eldest Master Brian and Mr. Goode, all talking and laughing with Mr. Bird, and taking it in turas to peer through his telescope at some object on the far horiton. I walked up slowly, and with blushes on my cheeks, I am sure, in my surprise. "Jane, my dear, here's a gunboat," said Mr. Brian, as I approached; "this gentleman has been kind enough to allow us to inspoot it through his very powerful telescope. Look here, child." Mr. Bird dld smile a little, in a sheep faced and embarrassed kind oí manner, as he glanced toward me, but he did not say a word when Mr. Brian handed me the instrument. He even let Mr. Goode focus the instrument for me without interfering in any way, although I fancied I heard hún grinding his teeth. "Xt's a capital glass, sir," aaid Mr. Brian to liim. Mr. Brian, being of a genial turn, was always disposed to be friendly with the first stranger whom he sncountered out of town. "Yes, it's a good glass." "Had it long, sir? Would you like to disposo of it no wV was the insinuating inquiry. "It belonged to my father," was the reply, "therefore ifc has not a money valué to me. It was his present when I was one-andtwenty, and I shouldn't like to part with it." Another birthday present, I thought Heavens, if he were to lose this too I "Certainly not, certainly not," said Mr. Brian, "I admire your good feeling, sir. George, you hear that," he said to his son, who was lacking in filial sentiment, and was at that identical moment sucking the bare knob of his stick as if it were an egg. George nodded and then winked at me. A most objectionable lout was George, and Mr. Bird scowled ferociously at him, and from him to me. I inspected the gunboat, or tried to inspect it, for the object glass was very misty with little transparent worms that seemed to be wriggling and dancing all over it; I returned the telescope to its owner, who said: "Thank you, ma'am," very quietly, and with his look of sadness highly developed again. Still he remained remarkably non-obtrusive: he did not attempt to forcé his converBation upon me in any way, and presently he was walking down the jetty with Mr. Brian, and talking and laughing as if he had known him all his life. I thought all this was a new and deep laid scheme of his, but it was really Lily Brian who was at the bottom of it all, or who at least indueed her parents and brother to say f rom that day "Good morning" to Mr. Bird, and even'to shake hands with him. Henee I was obliged to say "Good morning" also when he directly addressed me, and to becomo by degrees on spealdng terms with him again, and alinost to forget that umbrella question which had been a bone of contention - a whalebone of contention - between us. Not that the umbrella was off his mind in any way, for he had been introduced to Capt. Choppers on one occasion - by Capt. Choppers' express request, as that gentleman ■wanted to borrow his telescope - and to my astonishment I heard Mr. Bird say, five minutes after the introduction, "You see, it was not for the value of the umbrella, but because of the associations conneoted with it. I hope you understand. captain." "I understand perfectly," was the reply; "but that was no reason why you should have kicked up such an abominable uproar, sir." Capt. Choppers had borrowed the telescope, and was now dominant and rude. The time was drawing toward the end of the holiday when Mr. Bird and I were f riends. I may reinarle, actually friends, although I will say very flrnily, and despite Lily Brian's opinión, nothing more than friends. Mr. Bird's holiday would expire a few days bef ore our own, I learned, and, though I would not have owned it for untold wealth, I was sorry he was going back to London. He had informed me of his position by that time, and of his prospecta for the future, or of some of them. Ho had given up the business, and hls iather's business before him, of carver and gilder in the Goswellroad; he was very clever at his trade, I feit sure, for he had been offered the post of superintendent of work by an eminent flrm in Oxford street, with whom he had done business for years, and at a very respectable salary indeed. He was exceedingly communicative the last day of his stay in Márgate; we were sitting together under the shelter of the veranda of.the ref roshment room, with the band playing out in the rain. We were alone for a wonder; the Brians were on the rocks in search of anemones, with the exception of Lily, who had left me half an hour ago, with an injunction to come home if it "poured," and with an umbrella to shelter me, as I had ventured out without my own. Sho had seen - having very sharp eyes of her own- Mr. Geoffry Bir.l advancing down the jetty, and had mado somo trivial little excuse to leave me "to give the poor fellow a chance," as she told me afterwards. And therc ho was sitting by my side, cool and comfortable, and with the rain coming down in big drops and startling and eonfounding tho ploasure seekers. "I shall be quite the gentleman soon, Miss Keild," hesaid, with a laugh, "and with a soul abovo shop keeping. I only want a few friends about me to mako h'fe worth living, but I have uever had any friends. Never had tho time, or never saw any body who was worth taking any trouble about, until - until lately." I could not rcply to this. I did not know what he meant by "lately. n "People nevci1 toot to me, either." ho ronfeased, mefully; "I have a bad habit of speaking out what is on my niind, and I'm inquisitive and suspicious at times, and so forth. Altogether a beastly cliaracter." Ha waited for me to reply to this. Í had thought him abrupt and inquisitive and suspieious, but that seemed a very long time ago now. He had improved wonderfully of latedays: there were little traits of character, of frankness, earnestne-e, generosity, one could almost admire, but I was not going to teil him so, though he waited patiently as if he expeoted something of the kind. As if men were not rain enough in themselves, without being told of their aecomplishments I "You would not like anybody to say that but yourself," Isaid, however; aud it was a remark which did not commit me to anything. "No. I should knock him down, probably," he replied, "espaciaJly if it were the captain or that railway goods inspector fellow." "Don't you like them?" I askeil innoeently. "Do you?" he rejoined. "They are old friends, almost." "You don't make your lodgei-s your friends;" he remarked. "Not always." "I should think not," he said, very scornfully now. "But these two gentlemen knew me when I was a little girl." "Ah, that makes a difference, I suppose; that's why they are both so fond of you," he added, with a sigh. "Fond of mei" "You might marry either of them to-morrow, if you cared to hold up your iittle finger; I can seo that." "What nonsense!" "Oh, it's true euough," lie cried. I laughed. "Then I shan't hold up my Iittle finger." "That's right," he said; and he actually drew a long, deep breath, as though it relieved hjm to hear rae say no; "for that captain's a pompous old noodle - a selflsh party, who's stuck to my telescope a whole week- and the railway man would fidget any woman out of her life in a fortnight." "What's the matter with himf' "He's an old woman, that's all." "Upon ray honor, you are very uncomplimentary in your verdict upon my lodgers." "I hate your keeping a lodging house," he muttered. "My poverty and not my will consents," I answered. He was very silent for a long time now. The visitors had hurried homeward, or had sought shelter like ourselves, the band had ceased playing, the rain was coming down in earnest. "May I ask a favor of you beforelgo back to London?" he said suddenly and very hoarsely. "What is it?" "Will you say 'yes'P' "Not tül I know what it is about," I replied, with 3pirit, "certainly not." "Well, then," he cried, "don't give me back that little bird I carved. You said you would, and it bas been preying on my mind that it will come flying back some day when I least expect it and so upset me terribly. I want it hanging on your wall, to remlnd you of me son ie timas, you know; being a bird like me, you see, lt must And though our acquaintance did not commence auspiciously, still you have forgotten and forgiven, haven't you?" "Well - yes - almoat. " "And you'll keep that little earving?" "Perhaps I will." "Bless you, Jane- Miss Neild, I mean. And now" I was getting alarmed at hls vchemence, and very much afraid oí what he would say next. I jumped up. "I think I will go home to Lily. She's all alone, poor girl." "But it'l raining eats and dogs." "I don't mind the rain, and I'm fond of cats and dogs," I said, tripping from the shelter and struggling to open the umbrella which Lily had lent to me. "You have caught cold ia the rain before now," he said, dryly; "do stop a few minutes longer." "No," I said, shaking my head, "I would rather not." "Here, let me manage that thing for you, then," he said, maldng a dash at the umbrella, opening it and holding it above my head, "if you must run a way ; but you'll get very wet. " 'Tve got my waterproof." "Yes, butoh, Lord!" "What is the matter?" I exelaimed, as he turned very red and white, just as I had senn him on the fort, only now he looked at me as if I were a ghost and my spectral appearance had frightened him. He did not reply at once, and I cried: "Oh, what is the matter? Aren't you well? Won't you teil me?" "It's allright; that is, I shall be all right in a minute," he answered, in quite a new and hard tone of voice; "don't mind me. " "What can it be?" "I teil you it's nothing, Miss Neild," he said. "Don't take any notice of me, please. I had rather you didn't." It was a strange request, but I did not. I maintained a rigid silence, being a littla nettled presently at his own silent movements at my side, his steady stare ahead oí him, the stern expression on his face. He marchad along in so grave and dumb a fashion at last that I could have slapped his face for him. What did he mean by such behavior, I wondered) At the end of the jetty he brought my heart into my mouth by suddenly roaring out: "No, 111 never believe itl It's magie, it's a lying dream, it's anything but this! I can't believe it of you; I'd rather jump into the sea than tliink of it for another moment." "Think what? Good graeious! why don't you teil me?" "Think that you have deceived me all the time. You, too, of all the lot of them!" "What have I done, Mr. Birdí" "This- this umbrella," he cried. "WeU?" "It- it's the umbrella I droppeddown your areal My f ather's present; I can swear to it anywhere. They're my initials ou that silver collar, 'G. B.' Ohl heaven and earth, to fancy for one instant that you- Miss Neild, lam going ra ving mad. Look at it, look tttitl" I stared from him to the umbrella, which he had thrust into my hands, and feit going mad myself. I looked so terribly mean and guilty, and yet I was so perfectly innocent, and I did not want him now to have one thought against me. I was conf used ; I did not know how to erplain ; I feit too indignant in the midst of my grief even to try to explain; for ho should not havo jumped to conclusious in thia way, but have waited, and then I burst into tears. "Oh, pray don't cry," he called out, "for mercy's sake, don't, Jane; I don't care about the umbrolla now, I don't mind your taking" "It's - it's not mine!" Iscreamed outat last. "It was leut mo by Lily Brian, because she thought it - it - it would rain before I got home. Thero!" "Thank God ! What an awful thief she ia for one so young," he cried. "I ara so tremendously glad, though, so awfully glad"- "Take your umbrella," I cried, pitching it at him; "and I'm glad it's found, too, very." "I don't mean I'm glad I'vo found it, but that you" "How clare you suspect mo I cried, sweeping majestically away from him, but he followed me and held the umbrella over my head again, and overwhelmed me with hurried and incoherent apologies, which I declined to accept. "Perhaps it's not mino," ho said at last "Pray be rational, Miss Neild. 'B' stands for Brian as well as Bird. Is Mr. Brian's Christian name Georgo, do you thinki' "Don't speak to me. You know it's your umbrella." "It is a littlo like it," he said, dismally. "I don't wan't any miserable evásions, Mr. Bird, and I never want to see or speak to you again, and I' "Why, Jenny, whafs tho matter?" cried Lily Brian, suddenly appearing round the corner of the street, and under another umbrella, and with a shawl over her arm. 'Where have you been? Ma was afraid yoa wanted more wraps, and has sent me out with them, and- how d'ye do, Mr. Bird! Who'd have thought of seeing you this wet day?" 'Tve offended Miss Neild," he said, not smiling in the least at her arch manner of address to him. "You! Oh, what aboutf' she cried. "That nasty, hateful umbrella," I said. "Where did you get it, Lily? ohl where did you get it?" "What's the matter with the umbrellar asked Lily, very cool and self possessed. "It - it's not yours !' I exclaimed. "It never was yours !" "No, it's George's. He lent it me this morning. " "And where - where did your brother eet it?" "I don't know." But we did very shortly. Goorge had found it in his father's área, and, with a total disregard of other people's rights- being young and short of umbrellas- had quietly appropriated it without any fuss. It was like a merciful dispensation having his initials already engraved for him, too. Yes, it was down Mr. Brian's area that Mr. Bird had dropped his umbrella that night, and Geoffry had knocked at the next door by mistake. I cali him Geoffry now. And a very lucky mistake it wa3, he always says, even to this day, and I have been Mrs. Bird three reara, Iand there is another little Bird crowing in tí nest. too.