own.

"This," he reflected, "is a child of a curious mental calibre."

Before he could pursue the thought further, she broke in upon it in
quite a different strain.

"Have you seen Jack and Jill? They _are_ jolly."

"Who are Jack and Jill?"

"Why, my ravens, of course. I got them out of the old tree with a hole
in it at the end of the lake."

"The tree at the end of the lake! Why, the hole where the ravens nest
is fifty feet up. Who got them for you?"

"I got them myself. Sam--you know Sam--was afraid to go up. He said he
should fall, and that the old birds would peck his eyes. So I went by
myself one morning quite early, with a bag tied round my neck, and got
up. It was hard work, and I nearly tumbled once; but I got on the
bough beneath the hole at last. It shook very much; it is so rotten,
you have no idea. There were three little ones in the nest, all with
great mouths. I took two, and left one for the old birds. When I was
nearly down again, the old birds found me out, and flew at me, and
beat my head with their wings, and pecked--oh, they did peck! Look
here," and she showed him a scar on her hand; "that's where they
pecked. But I stuck to my bag, and got down at last, and I'm glad I
did, for we are great friends now; and I am sure the cross old birds
would be quite pleased if they knew how nicely I am educating their