d taken his fancy, and for years he had been
quietly filling his stocking. It was a stocking belonging to some
bathing person which had been cast upon the island, and at the time I
speak of it contained a hundred and eighty crumbs, thirty-four nuts,
sixteen crusts, a pen-wiper, and a boot-lace. When his stocking was
full, Solomon calculated that he would be able to retire on a
competency. Peter now gave him a pound. He cut it off his bank-note
with a sharp stick.

This made Solomon his friend for ever, and after the two had consulted
together they called a meeting of the thrushes. You will see presently
why thrushes only were invited.

The scheme to be put before them was really Peter's, but Solomon did
most of the talking, because he soon became irritable if other people
talked. He began by saying that he had been much impressed by the
superior ingenuity shown by the thrushes in nest-building, and this put
them into good-humour at once, as it was meant to do; for all the
quarrels between birds are about the best way of building nests. Other
birds, said Solomon, omitted to line their nests with mud, and as a
result they did not hold water. Here he cocked his head as if he had
used an unanswerable argument; but, unfortunately, a Mrs. Finch had
come to the meeting uninvited, and she squeaked out, 'We don't build
nests to hold water, but to hold eggs,' and then the thrushes stopped
cheering, and Solomon was so perplexed that he took several sips of
water.

'Consider,' he said at last, 'how warm the mud makes the nest.'

'Consider,' cried Mrs. Finch, 'that when water gets into the nest it
remains there and your little ones are drowned.'

The thrushes begged Solomon with a look to say something crushing in
reply to this, but again he was perplexed.

'Try another drink,' suggested Mrs. Finch pertly. Kate was her name,
and all Kates are saucy.

[Illustration: For years he had been quietly filling his stocking]

Solomon did try another drink, and it inspired him. 'If,' said he, 'a
finch's nest is placed on the Serpentine it fills and breaks to pieces,
but a thrush's nest is still as dry as the cup of a swan's back.'

How the thrushes applauded! Now they knew why they lined their nests
with mud, and when Mrs. Finch called out, 'We don't place our nests on
the Serpentine,' they did what they should have done at first--chased
her from the meeting. After this it was most orderly. What they had
been brought t