uld dance and hop with great delight; and
the little hens, in a circle round them, watched their hops and steps
with absorbed interest. Immensely pleased with himself, the young dancer
would fluff out his feathers, so as to look as big as possible, and
after strutting about, would suddenly shoot out a leg and a wing, first
on one side and then on the other, then spring high into the air, and do
a sort of step dance when his feet touched the earth again. Endless were
the tricks he resorted to, to show off his feathers and dancing to the
best advantage; and the little hens watched it all with silent
intentness.

In the meantime the frogs and crickets stopped to rest, and Dot could
hear the conversation of some of the old birds perched near her. A
little party of elderly hens were discussing the young birds who were
dancing at the bower.

"I must say I don't admire that new step which is becoming so popular
amongst the young birds," said one elderly hen; and all her companions
rustled their feathers, closed their beaks tightly, and nodded their
heads in various ways. One said it was "rough," another that it was
"ungainly," and others that it was "unmannerly."

"As for manners," said the first speaker, "the bower birds of this day
can't be said to have any!" and all her companions chorused, "No,
indeed!"

[Illustration: THE BOWER BIRDS]

"In my young day," continued the elderly hen, and all the group were
sighing, "Ah! in our young days!" when a young hen perched on a bough
above them, and interrupted pertly, "Dear me! can't you good birds find
anything more interesting to talk about than ancient history?" At this
the groups of gossips whispered angrily to one another "Minx!" "Hussy!"
"Wild Cat!" etc., and the rude young bird flew back to her companions.

"What I object to most in young birds," said another elderly hen,
"is their appearance. Some of them do nothing all day but preen their
feathers. Look at the over-studied arrangements of their wing flights,
and the affected exactness of their tail feathers! One looks in vain for
sweetness and simplicity in the present-day young bower birds."

"Even that is better than the newer fashion of scarcely preening the
feathers at all," observed yet another of the group. "Many of the young
birds take no pride in their feathers whatever, but devote all their
time to studying the habits of out-of-the-way insects." A chorus of
disapproval from all present supported this remark