ones! I stood still at first in pure pleasure at the sight; and then,
little by little, grand ideas came into my head.

I would be very kind to these little blackbirds, I thought; I would
take them home out of this cold tree, and make a large nest of cotton
wool (which would be much softer and better for them than to be where
they were), and feed them, and keep them; and then, when they were
full-grown, they would, of course, love me better than any one, and be
very tame and grateful; and I should walk about with them on my
shoulders, like Goody Twoshoes, and be admired by everybody; for, I am
ashamed to say, most of my day dreams ended with this, _to be admired
by everybody_. I was so wrapped up in these thoughts that I did not
know, till his hands were laid upon my shoulders, that my friend, the
curate of the village, had come up behind me. He lived next door to
us, and often climbed over the wall that divided our garden to bring
me flowers for my little bed. He was a tall, dark, not very young man;
and the best hand at making fire-balloons, mending toys, and making a
broken wax doll as good as new with a hot knitting needle, that you
can imagine. I had heard grown-up people call him grave and silent,
but he always laughed and talked to me.

"What are you doing, little woman?" he said.

"I have got a nest of poor little birds," I answered; "I am so sorry
for them here in the cold; but they will be all right when I have got
them indoors. I shall make them a beautiful nest of cotton wool, and
feed them. Won't it be nice?"

I spoke confidently; for I had really so worked up my fancy that I
felt quite a contemptuous pity for all the wretched little birds who