cock that she doesn't mind a bit. Things _you'd_ be afraid
of, perhaps.--There is Mrs Solace at the door."

Mrs Solace beamed at the children in her usual kindly way; and, as was
her custom, would not think of their leaving the house without eating
something after their walk. At home Philippa would have despised bread
and honey and new milk, but here somehow it tasted very good, and she
was too hungry to stop to call it odd.

"The little lady wants some of your roses, Miss Maisie," said Mrs
Solace, looking at the children as they sat side by side; "she's as
white as a sloe-blossom."

"My complexion's naturally delicate, thank you," said Philippa, rather
offended; "I never get sunburnt like Maisie."

"Oh, well, maybe you've outgrown your strength a bit, my dear," said the
farmer's wife, smiling comfortably.--"And now, Master Dennis, I mustn't
forget that Andrew's got a couple of young jackdaws for you: would you
like to take them back now, or let 'em bide here a little?"

There was some consultation between Dennis and his sister, before it was
finally settled that the jackdaws should not be taken then and there to
Fieldside, but should first have a home prepared for them.

"And I know just where to build it," he said, as the three children
started on their return after saying good-bye to Mrs Solace. "Just in
that corner, you know, between the fowl-house and the cow-shed."

"Do you know how to build it?" asked Philippa.

"Well, perhaps not just quite exactly," said Dennis with candour; "but
Tuvvy will tell me and help with the difficult parts. He passes through
our field every night, you know."

"And shall you work at it just like a carpenter?" asked Philippa with
surprise.

"As like as I can," said Dennis modestly; "you see, I do know a little
carpentering because I've watched Tuvvy so much."

"You're a _very_ odd boy," said Philippa. Every day that she passed at
Fieldside she became more and more certain that her cousins did strange
things, and liked strange things; but, at the same time, there was
something pleasant about the life they led, and she did not feel cross
nearly as often as she did at home. She even began to share their
interest in the affairs of the village.

"I wish there were people at Haughton I could go and see like this," she
said one day.

"But there isn't any village at Haughton," said Dennis. "There's only
the Upwell Road outside the gates."

"There are lots of poor people i