the wing
Is not more happy than I!
Stooping to earth, and seeking the sky.
Swing! swing! swing!
See how high upward I fly!
Here, midst the leaves I swing;
Then, as fast to my swing I cling,
Down I come from the sky!
Swing! swing! a bird on the wing
Is not more happy than I!
Thus sang little Dot, tossing herself backwards and forwards, and the
Kangaroo, squatting below, came to the conclusion that there was
something very sweet about little Humans, and that Dot was certainly
quite as nice as a Joey Kangaroo.
In the middle of one of these little swinging diversions, a bird about
the size of a pigeon, with the most wonderfully shiny plumage, flew to
the tree from which Dot's creeper swing hung. Dot was so struck by the
bird's beautiful blue-black glossy appearance, and its brightly
contrasting yellow beak and legs, that she stopped swinging at once.
"You ARE a pretty bird!" she said.
"I am a Satin Bower Bird," it said. "We heard you singing, and we
thought, therefore, that you probably enjoy parties, so I have come to
invite you to one of our assemblies which will take place shortly.
Friend Kangaroo, we know, is of a somewhat serious nature, but probably
she will do us the pleasure of accompanying you to our little
entertainment."
"I shall have great pleasure in doing so," said the Kangaroo; "I have
not been to any of your parties for a long time. You know, I suppose,
that I lost my Joey very sadly."
"We heard all about it," replied the Bower Bird in a tone of
exaggerated, almost ridiculous sadness, for it was so anxious that the
Kangaroo should think that it felt very deeply for her loss. "We were
in the middle of a meeting at the time the Wallaby brought the news,
and we were so sad that we nearly broke up our assembly. But it would
have been a pity to do so, really, as the young birds enjoy themselves
so much at the 'Bower of Pleasure'. But," said the Satin Bird, with a
sudden change of tone from extreme sorrow to one of vivacious interest
I must show you the way to the bower, or you would never find it.
Dot jumped down from the swing, and she and the Kangaroo, guided by the
Satin Bird, made their way through some very thickly-grown bush. The
bird was certainly right in saying that they would never have found the
Bower of Pleasure without a guide. It was carefully concealed in the
most densely grown scrub. As they were pushing their way through a
thicket of shrubs, bef
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