a
wondered at this, for Pirlaps was always so polite; it would have been
much more like him to excuse himself with a courteous bow to his
guests.

"Good morning, Sara," he said in a low tone, when he reached her side.
"A glorious morning, isn't it? Avrillia thought you would enjoy seeing
the Birds fed, and the children at their winter sports. Avrillia
herself is very busy just now; the suet gave out and she's gone to
order some more. But I daresay she'll have time to speak to you after
a while. Meantime, I'll tell you who they are: it isn't polite to
introduce them to anybody. Indeed, I must tell you that their ways are
very peculiar, and they are very easily offended; so try to be
careful. For instance, you must never speak aloud in their presence,
but only behind your hand, in a whisper; and if you wish to make the
best impression, do not seem to see them at all. Also, if you should
care to partake of any of the food, remember not to touch it with your
hands: that is the very worst of bad manners. Always take it with your
beak--I mean your mouth."

Sara stood perfectly still, watching; never had she been so charmed
and astonished.

"Who are they?" she asked, after a moment.

"Well, the tallest one, with the high blue beaver hat, is the Popinjay,"
said Pirlaps. "He's just about the cock of the walk, and he's quite
self-important and touchy. The one with the very long bill, and the
stiff, stumpy tail that he uses for a cane, is the Redpecker. The one
in the checked suit, with the black necktie, yellow satin
sleeve-linings, and white patch on his coat-tail, is the Snicker. He's
full of fun and a good fellow, but rather crude--for he'll sometimes
talk to you a little if he's sure the others aren't looking. Ants are
his favorite food, but Avrillia didn't put up any this summer, so I
had to send Yassuh down to the colony to get one of my uncles for him.
Poor Uncle," said Pirlaps, looking very sad for a moment, "I hated to
do it; but he was only a half-uncle and quite old, and lately he had
grown so thin that he was hardly more than a three-eighths one.
However, he was plenty for the Snicker," he added more cheerfully,
"he's not as exacting as most of them. The little lady in brown, with
the bustle, is a When; like the Snicker, she's really quite a charming
little person, though of an interrogative turn of mind; and they all
frown on her sociable ways. The fierce-looking old gentleman with the
Roman nose is the Squawk;