be so bold as to hope such a thing--to make mysterious, almost occult
advances towards intimacy. Also I had never before heard of such a thing
happening to any one howsoever bird loving. Birds are creatures who must
be wooed and it must be delicate and careful wooing which allures them
into friendship.

I held my soft stillness. Would he stay? Could it be that the last hop
was nearer? Yes, it was. The moment was a breathless one. Dare one
believe that the next was nearer still--and the next--and the next--and
that the two yards of distance had become scarcely one--and that within
that radius he was soberly hopping round my very feet with his quite
unafraid eye full upon me. This was what was happening. It may not seem
exciting but it was. That a little wild thing should come to one unasked
was of a thrillingness touched with awe.

Without stirring a muscle I began to make low, soft, little sounds to
him--very low and very caressing indeed--softer than one makes to a
baby. I wanted to weave a spell--to establish mental communication--to
make Magic. And as I uttered the tiny sounds he hopped nearer and
nearer.

"Oh! to think that you will come as near as that!" I whispered to him.
"You KNOW. You know that nothing in the world would make me put out my
hand or startle you in the least tiniest way. You know it because you
are a real person as well as a lovely--lovely little bird thing. You
know it because you are a soul."

Because of this first morning I knew--years later--that this was what
Mistress Mary thought when she bent down in the Long Walk and "tried to
make robin sounds."