e must have been by the time he had finished with his third family."

"I have been told, and on the best possible authority too," said the
Rook, rather mischievously, "of a pair of Blackbirds who had four
families--"

"Oh, pray don't," said the Blackbird, as he opened out his wings as if
for flight; "you make me feel quite nervous."

The Rook gave a caw which he intended to be a sympathetic one, but there
was a little falter in it, which, had he been a human being instead of a
bird, might have been mistaken for a smothered laugh. The birds now rose
on the wing, and together flew homewards. While passing the lake a boat
and the sound of oars arrested their attention. To watch it as it went
by, they settled on the lowest branch of an old beech-tree, which grew
at the edge of the lake, and spread its arms over the bright waters,
affording a grateful shade to boating-parties in the summer. This tree
was quite an old family friend, and generation after generation had
gazed at it from the old bay window--generations who had rejoiced in its
first spring leaves, and regretted the fall of the last brown one in
autumn. It formed a capital shelter for the birds, from whence they
could see and not be seen.

Willie and Alice, their mother and father, and Mrs. Barlow the nurse,
were in the boat. The father was rowing, and Willie was occupying the
proud position of steersman. They soon drew to land and moored the
little craft under the shade of the beech-tree. Then out came little
mugs, bread and butter, fruit and cake--they were actually going to have
a pic-nic on the water!

Tea out of doors was an immense delight; but tea out of doors and _on
the water_ was even better, at least so thought Willie and Alice, but so
did _not_ think Nurse Barlow. She screamed each time the boat rolled,
and assured them every few minutes that they would all be drowned. As
far as she was concerned she couldn't see "why Master Willie and Miss
Alice couldn't have had tea quietly in their own nursery. It was a deal
better than coming out there on the water, and sitting under that tree,
with all those nasty insects dropping down on them."

Nurse Barlow did not love expeditions of any sort or kind. She
infinitely preferred walking up and down the trim gravel paths, with a
child on either side of her. She could not bear to see the little curls
ruffled, and the fresh white frocks tumbled.

But these were not the sentiments of Willie and his sister, and