im would say; "nobody knows what he's
thinking of!"

In her heart of hearts Norah did not believe that mattered very much.

But when the stables had been visited and Bobs and Sirdar (Jim's
neglected pony) interviewed; when Tait and Puck had had their breakfast
bones; when wallabies and kangaroo had been inspected (with a critical
eye to their water tins), and the turtle had impassively received a
praiseworthy attempt to draw him out; when the chicks had all been fed,
and the guinea pigs (unlike the leopard) had changed their spot for the
day--there still remained the birds.

The birds were a colony in themselves. There was a big aviary, large
enough for little trees and big shrubs to grow in, where a happy family
lived whose members included several kinds of honey-eaters, Queensland
finches, blackbirds and a dozen other tiny shy things which flitted
quickly from bush to bush all day. They knew Norah and, when she entered
their home, would flutter down and perch on her head and shoulders, and
look inquisitively for the flowers she always brought them. Sometimes
Norah would wear some artificial flowers, by way of a joke. It was funny
to see the little honey-eaters thrusting in their long beaks again and
again in search of the sweet drops they had learned to expect in
flowers, and funnier still to watch the air of disgust with which they
would give up the attempt.

There were doves everywhere--not in cages, for they never tried to
escape. Their soft "coo" murmured drowsily all around. There were
pigeons, too, in a most elaborate pigeon cote--another effort of Jim's
carpentering skill. These were as tame as the smaller birds, and on
Norah's appearance would swoop down upon her in a cloud. They had done
so once when she was mounted on Bobs, to the pony's very great alarm and
disgust. He took to his heels promptly. "I don't think he stopped for
two miles!" Norah said. Since then, however, Bobs had grown used to the
pigeons fluttering and circling round him. It was a pretty sight to
watch them all together, child and pony half hidden beneath their load
of birds.

The canaries had a cage to themselves--a very smart one, with every
device for making canary life endurable in captivity. Certainly Norah's
birds seemed happy enough, and the sweet songs of the canaries were
delightful. I think they were Norah's favourites amongst her feathered
flock.

Finally there were two talkative members--Fudge the parrot, and old
Caesar,