over its ridge-pole, stood the chariot, and at its door, with Mr. G. Bird
in his arms, I saw that man Adam.

"He didn't recognize my first touch," came across the moonbeams in a voice
as fluty as the original Pan's, and mingled with friendly chuckles and
clucks from the entire Bird family as they felt the caress of long hands
among them. I was so ruffled myself that I felt in need of soothing; so I
came across the light and into the black shadow of the old coach.

"Oh, I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't come!" I exclaimed.

After my ardent exclamation of welcome to Pan I stood still for fear he
would vanish into the moonlight, because with his litheness and the eerie
locks of hair that even in the silvering radiance showed a note of crimson
cresting over his ears, he looked exactly as if he had come out of the
hollow in some oak-tree.

"I thought you might feel that way about it," he answered me, or rather I
think that is what he said, because he was crooning to me and the Ladies
Bird at the same time, and with a mixture of epitaphs and endearments that
I didn't care to untangle. "There, there, lovely lady, don't be scared; it
is going to be all right," he soothed, as he lifted one of the fluffy
biddies and tucked her under his arm.

"Oh, I am so glad you think so," I claimed the remark by exclaiming, while
she made her claim by a contented little cluck.

"Now don't be bothered, sweetheart," he again said, as he picked up another
of the Ladies Bird and turned towards the huge old tumble-down barn that
was yawning a black midnight out into the gray moonlight. "Let's all go