the rain had ceased. Thumbkins knew it had stopped raining for he could
no longer hear the rain drops pattering upon Mamma Meadow-Lark's back.
So now he climbed out of the nest and looked about.

The ground about the Meadow-Lark's nest was covered with tiny puddles,
and Mamma Meadow-Lark was soaking wet. She looked very uncomfortable.
Her feathers stuck out in all directions and a drop of water fell from
her head and rolled down her beak.

Thumbkins thought at first Mamma Meadow-Lark was crying, and he said:
"Are you cold, Mamma Meadow-Lark?"

"Yes, indeed!" Mamma Meadow-Lark replied as she shook her ruffled
feathers, sending the water flying in all directions.

"But, you see," she continued, "if I did not cover my baby Meadow-Lark
chicks they would get very, very cold, for they have little bald heads
with not a single feather upon them to protect them! So, while I get
wet, it does not matter so much, for I know I have kept my little
Meadow-Lark chicks dry and warm and cozy and that, of course, makes me
very happy! And I had the pleasure of keeping you warm and dry, too!"
Mamma Meadow-Lark added.

"Perhaps Mamma Meadow-Lark is very happy inside!" Thumbkins thought to
himself as he stood and looked at her. "But she does not look very happy
with such wet feathers."

"I thank you ever and ever so much, Mamma Meadow-Lark!" Thumbkins said.

"You are indeed very welcome," Mamma Meadow-Lark replied, "and any time