, and looking up into his huge face, which was
as round as the eyes of the giantess's spectacles, and much bigger,
dropped a pretty courtesy, and said,--"Please, Mr. Owl, I want to
whisper to you."

"Very well, small child," answered the owl, looking important, and
stooping his ear towards her. "What is it?"

"Please tell me where the eagle lives that sits on the giant's heart."

"Oh, you naughty child! That's a secret. For shame!"

And with a great hiss that terrified them, the owl flew into the tree.
All birds are fond of secrets; but not many of them can keep them so
well as the owl.

So the children went on because they did not know what else to do. They
found the way very rough and difficult, the tree was so full of humps
and hollows. Now and then they plashed into a pool of rain; now and
then they came upon twigs growing out of the trunk where they had no
business, and they were as large as full-grown poplars. Sometimes they
came upon great cushions of soft moss, and on one of them they lay down
and rested. But they had not lain long before they spied a large
nightingale sitting on a branch, with its bright eyes looking up at the
moon. In a moment more he began to sing, and the birds about him began
to reply, but in a different tone from that in which they had replied
to the owl. Oh, the birds did call the nightingale such pretty names!
The nightingale sang, and the birds replied like this:--

"I will sing a song.
I'm the nightingale."
"Sing a song, long, long,
Little Neverfail!
What will you sing about,
Light in or light out?"

"Sing about the light
Gone away;
Down, away, and out of sight--
Poor lost Day!
Mourning for the Day dead,
O'er his dim bed."

The nightingale sang so sweetly, that the children would have fallen
asleep but for fear of losing any of the song. When the nightingale
stopped they got up and wandered on. They did not know where they were
going, but they thought it best to keep going on, because then they
might come upon something or other. They were very sorry they had
forgotten to ask the nightingale about the eagle's nest, but his music
had put everything else out of their heads. They resolved, however, not
to forget the next time they had a chance. So they went on and on, till
they were both tired, and Tricksey-Wee said at last, trying to laugh,--

"I declare my legs feel just like a Dutch doll's."

"Then here's the place to go to bed i