ore reaching the open space where the Satin
Birds' bower was built, they beard an increasing noise of birds all
talking to one another. The din of this chattering was enhanced
considerably by the shrill sounds of tree frogs and crickets, and the
hubbub made Dot feel like the little Native Bear--as if her "head was
empty."

"This will be a very pleasant party," said the Satin Bird, "there is
plenty of conversation, so everyone's in a good humour."

"Do you think anyone is listening, or are they all talking?" enquired
the Kangaroo timidly.

"Nobody would attempt to listen," answered the Satin Bird, "it would be
impossible against the music of the tree frogs and crickets, so
everyone talks."

"I should tell the tree frogs and crickets to be quiet," said Dot, "no
one seems to care for their music."

"Oh, without music it would be very dull," explained the Satin Bird.
"No one would care to talk. You understand, it would be awkward,
someone might overhear what was said."

As the bird spoke the trio reached the place where the bower was
situated.

Dot thought it a most curious sight. In the middle of an open space
the birds had built the flooring of twigs, and upon that they had
erected a bower about three feet high, also constructed of twigs
interwoven with grass, and arranged so as nearly to meet at the top in
an arched form.

"It's a new bower, and more commodious than our last," said the Satin
Bird with an air of great satisfaction. "What do you think of the
decorations?"

In a temporary lull of the frog and cricket band and the conversation,
Dot and the Kangaroo praised the bower and its decorations, and
enquired politely how the birds had managed to procure such a
collection of ornaments for their pleasure hall. Several young bower
birds came and joined in the chat, and Dot was surprised to see how
different their plumage was from the satin blue-black of the old birds.
These younger members of the community were of a greenish yellow
colour, with dark pencillings on their feathers, and had no glossy
sheen like their elders.

Each of them pointed out some ornament that it had brought with which
to deck the bower. One had brought the pink feathers of a Galah, which
had been stuck here and there amongst the twigs. Others had collected
the delicate shells of land snails, and put them round about the
entrance. But the birds that were proudest of their contributions were
those who had picked up odds and end