piratical work; and the little rogue looked up in my face so
saucily, too, as much as to say, 'Who cares for you?' Then she began
singing at the top of her voice, exulting over her work of
destruction. Can you suppose it was any sense of honesty that
prevented her using the bluebird's nest after having stolen her
house? No, Jenny Wren had no principle. You would have laughed to
see how scornfully she tossed out those dead leaves. Every thing
went out of the nest pell-mell. The little monster! what could the
poor bluebirds say or do? This bird evidently had no conscience, at
least not a good one, that is plain. Never did general rejoice more
over the capture and destruction of a city than this little bit of a
bird rejoiced over the destruction of the bluebird's nest, and at
the unlawful possession of the house. I saw her carrying in a long
stick that suited her better than the short ones that the bluebird
had carried in: she found she could not get it in if she took it in
the middle; so she changed the place, and held it by the end, and so
by that means got it in. She was more cunning than the bluebird. Now
you might hear the two little robbers sing again. They are happier
than any king can be nowadays. Poor, dear, beautiful bluebirds! What
has become of them? Then came the mother. She looked into the jar
and saw the destruction of her nest--all her week's work. How
distressed she seemed! but the victorious wrens had no pity on her.
They drove her away. She disappeared. The saucy conquerors flew in
and out of their stolen house twenty times a minute, caring for
nothing. They could have had no moral sense; but they were very
amusing, and they were nothing but birds; they knew no better; so we
must forgive them."

"I like stories about animals better than any other stories," said
Frank. "I think animals know as much, and sometimes more than we do.