great pleasure, mother and auntie said _they_
would far rather stay and have tea with the little people.

"It is a good thing, isn't it, for them to stay with us?" said Fritz to
Celia, confidentially, "for we are none of us _very_ big, are we? And
you know we _might_ get lost somehow, as Baby says, though I wouldn't
say so to him for fear of frightening him, you know."

"No, of course not," said Celia, and looking up she was pleased to see
mother smiling at her. Mother saw that Celia was trying to be kind and
helpful, and she did so like to see the way the little ones clung to
Celia when she was gentle. Mother must have been something like Baby in
her mind, I think, for when she looked at the boys sitting there in the
strange, big station-room, their little faces grave and rather tired
looking, a sort of sorry feeling came over _her_ too, as she thought of
the snug, cosy nursery at home, and the neat nursery tea, with the
pretty pink and white cups she had chosen, and the canaries and "Bully"
twittering in the window. Poor "calanies" and poor Bully! they didn't
know where they had got to! They had slept nearly all day, thinking, as
they were meant to think, that it was night, I suppose, but now they
must have given up thinking so, for they were fidgeting about in their
cages in an unhappy, restless sort of way. They had plenty of seed, and
Celia and Lisa took care that they should have fresh water, but still,
poor little things, they were not very happy.

"Going away from their own home is really a trial for children," thought
mother. She was a little tired herself, and being tired makes
_everything_ seem the wrong way.

But there was no help for it. They had all to make the best of things,
and to set off again in another train and be rattled away to the sea. It
was quite dark by now, of course, and it seemed very queer to start on
another journey with so little rest between. I think, however, once they
were all settled in the railway carriage, that the children slept the
most of the way; Baby, at any rate, knew nothing more till he woke up to
find himself in Lisa's arms, with a cold, fresh air--the air of the
sea--blowing in his face, and making him lift up his head and look about
him.

"Where is him?" he said. "Is him in the 'normous boat?"

"Not so, Herr Baby," said Lisa. "He shall first be undressed and have a
nice sleep all night in bed, to rest him well. Lie still, mine child,
and Lisa will keep you warm."