the
time we get back again."

"Maybe," replied Twinkle.

They got their own luncheon from the basket, and afterward perched on
the tree near the nest of the little goldfinches. They did not feel at
all comfortable in their old nest in the maple, because they could not
forget the tragic deaths of the inhabitants of the three hollows in the
tree--the three "flats" as poor Wisk had merrily called them.

During the afternoon several of the birds came to call upon the
orphans, and they all nodded approval when they found the child-larks
watching over the little ones. Twinkle questioned some of the mothers
anxiously about that trick the babies had of keeping their bills open
and crying for food, but she was told to pay no attention to such
actions.

Nevertheless, the pleadings of the orphans, who were really stuffed
full of food, made the child-larks so nervous that they hailed with
delight the arrival of Policeman Bluejay in the early evening. The busy
officer had brought with him Mrs. Chaffinch, a widow whose husband had
been killed a few days before by a savage wildcat.

Mrs. Chaffinch declared she would be delighted to become a mother to
the little goldfinches, and rear them properly. She had always had good
success in bringing up her own children, she claimed, and the
goldfinches were first cousins to the chaffinches, so she was sure to
understand their ways perfectly.

Twinkle did not want to give up her charges at first, as she had become
interested in them; but Chubbins heaved a sigh of relief and declared
he was glad the "restless little beggars" had a mother that knew more
about them than he did. The bluejay hinted that he considered the
widow's experience would enable her to do more for the baby goldfinches
than could a child-lark who had never yet laid an egg, and so Twinkle
was forced to yield to his superior judgment.

Mrs. Chaffinch settled herself in a motherly manner upon the nest, and
the two bird-children bade her good-night and returned to their own
maple tree, where they had a rather wakeful night, because Chubbins
thoughtlessly suggested that the place might be haunted by the ghosts
of the gray owl, Wisk, and Mrs. 'Possum.

But either the poor things had no ghosts or they were too polite to
bother the little child-larks.

[CHAPTER XII] _The Guardian_

The next morning ushered in a glorious day, sunny and bright. The sky
was a clear blue, and only a slight breeze ruffled the leaves of th