," she said. "Oh, Duke, how funny you
are!"

"And how could the ogre's wife go and buy him things at shops if they
were up on the top of a hill so big that nobody could get down?"

"Oh," replied Duke, "'cos there was andnother hill just a very little
way off that they could get on quite easily, like steps, and there was
lots of shops on the nother hill--all kinds."

"All shops for ogreses?" inquired Hec timidly.

"No, in course not. Shops for proper people. But when the ogre's wife
went to buy somefin for him to eat she had to buy a whole shop-ful--lots
and lots--but I zink I've toldened you enough for to-day. I must make
some more up first."

"Very well, dear, perhaps it will be better, and thank you for what
you've told us to-day," said Cousin Magdalen, beginning to fold up her
work. "I must try now to get my letter written before luncheon. I hope
it's not going to rain all the afternoon."

One or two of the children ran to the window, as she spoke, to examine
the state of the clouds. Suddenly, as they stood there, something, a
small dark thing, was seen to fall or flutter to the ground, a short way
off.

"What was that?" said Hoodie, whose quick eyes always saw things before
any one else.

"What?" said Duke deliberately.

"Didn't you see something fall, stupid boy?" said Hoodie politely.

"Yes, I saw somefin, but perhaps it was only a leaf."

"But perhaps it wasn't only a leaf," said Hoodie impatiently. "There
now, look there, don't you see it's moving? Over there by the little fat
tree with the spiky leaves--oh, oh, oh! It's a bird--a poor little
innicent bird--that's felled out of a netst," screamed Hoodie, in
tremendous excitement, which always upset her English. "Oh, Cousin
Magdalen, quick, quick! open the door, do, do, and let Hoodie go and
fetcht the poor little bird."

She danced about with impatience, her eyes streaming--for in curious
contrast with Hoodie's scant affection for her fellow human beings was
her immense tenderness and devotion towards dumb animals of every kind.
She "would not hurt a fly" would have very poorly described her
feelings. She had been known to nurse a maimed bluebottle for a week,
getting up in the night to give it fresh crumbs of sugar--she had cried
for two days and a half after accidentally seeing the last struggles of
a chicken which the cook had killed for dinner, and had she clearly
understood that the mutton-chops she was so fond of were really the ribs
of "a