ise,"
responded the bluejay; "for the Guardian of the Entrance is a special
friend of mine, and will do whatever I ask him to."

"Will he, really?" asked the girl, in delight.

"To be sure. Some day I will take you over there, and then you will see
what powerful friends Policeman Bluejay has."

"I'd like that," declared Twinkle.

Their swift flight enabled them to cover the remaining distance very
rapidly, and soon they were at home again.

They first flew to the nest of the goldfinches, which was in a tree not
far from the maple where the lark-children lived. There they found the
tiny birds, who were yet so new that they were helpless indeed. Mrs.
Redbreast was sitting by the nest when they arrived, and she said:

"The poor orphans are still hungry, although I have fed them all the
insects I could find near. But I am glad that you have come, for it is
time I was at home looking after my own little ones."

"Chubbins and I have 'dopted the goldfinches," said Twinkle, "so we will
look after them now. But it was very nice of you, Mrs. Redbreast, to
take take care of them until we arrived."

"Well, I like to be neighborly," returned the pretty bird; "and as long
as cruel men enter our forest no mother can tell how soon her own
little ones will be orphaned and left helpless."

"That is true," said the policeman, nodding gravely.

So Mrs. Redbreast flew away and now Chubbins looked curiously into the
nest, where several fluffy heads were eagerly lifted with their bills
as wide open as they could possibly stretch.

"They must be just _awful_ hungry, Twink," said the boy.

"Oh, they're always like that," observed Policeman Bluejay, calmly.
"When anyone is around they open their mouths to be fed, whether they
are hungry or not. It's the way with birdlets."

"What shall we feed them?" asked Twinkle.

"Oh, anything at all; they are not particular," said the bluejay, and
then he flew away and left the child-larks to their new and interesting
task.

"I'll be the father, and you be the mother," said Chubbins.

"All right," answered Twinkle.

"Peep! peep! peep!" said the tiny goldfinches.

"I wonder if the luncheon in our basket would agree with them,"
remarked the girl, looking at the open mouths reflectively as she
perched her own brown body upon the edge of the deep nest.

"Might try it," suggested the boy. "The cop says they're not
particular, and what's good enough for us ought to be good enough for
them."