rt off at
once to Charing Cross.'

The 'bit of dinner' proved to be a very ample meal, to which our
schoolboys did full justice, for school meals a hundred years ago were
far from satisfying, and a dinner like this one was not a thing to be
hurried over. However, there must come a time when even hungry
schoolboys can eat no more, and at last, when even another fig seemed an
impossibility, a start was made for the birds. They arrived at the Hall
in good time, and had excellent seats, just facing the stage.

When the curtain drew up, it disclosed a long table, on which were
placed a dozen cages, each containing a little bird. Their 'tutor,' as
Signor Rossignol styled himself, stood at the head of the table, and,
after a low bow to the audience, he began: 'Behold my little family of
birds! They have all the true military instinct, and are ready, as you
will see, to do all in their power to defend this land of freedom.'

Loud and prolonged cheers greeted this speech, for the Battle of
Trafalgar had not yet taken place, and the dread of a sudden landing of
the French 'tyrant' was never long out of the thoughts of any Briton.
When the cheering had ceased, Rossignol opened the cages one after
another, and each bird hopped out in a sedate way, and placed itself on
the table, waiting for orders.

'Fall in!' shouted Rossignol, in a loud military voice, and at once the
birds formed themselves into two ranks. Then their tutor fitted a little
paper helmet on to each bird's head, and fixed tiny wooden muskets under
their left wings.

Thus equipped, the birds, at the word of command from their tutor, went
through the usual exercises of soldiers amidst the applause of the
audience.

Then another bird, not previously exercised, was brought forward.

'Death of a deserter,' explained the tutor, as six birds placed
themselves three on each side of the new arrival, and solemnly conducted
him from the top to the bottom of the table, where there was a small
brass cannon, charged with a little gunpowder.

The unfortunate deserter was placed in front of this cannon, his guards
retired in an orderly way, and he was left alone to meet his fate. A
lighted match was now put into the claws of another bird, who hopped
slowly up to the cannon and discharged it. At the sound of the explosion
the deserter fell down on to the table, and lay there as if rigid in
death.

'Oh, I say! That is too bad!' said the younger boy. 'I don't think poor
bi