like men and women; indeed, I don't think they even like to RENT a
house without fixing it over to suit themselves, but they 'd much
rather go to work and build one,

"So snug and so warm, so cosy and neat,
To start at their housekeeping all complete."

Now there hung just inside my window a box of strings, and for two or
three days, no matter how many I put into it, when I went to look the
next time none could be found. I had talked to the little girls and
scolded the little boys in the house, but no one knew anything about
the matter, when one afternoon, as I was sitting there, a beautiful
bird with a yellow breast fluttered down from the willow-tree, perched
on the window-sill, cocked his saucy head, winked his bright eye, and
without saying "If you please," clipped his naughty little beak into
the string box and flew off with a piece of pink twine.

I sat as still as a mouse to see if the little scamp would dare to
come back; he didn't, but he sent his wife, who gave a hop, skip, and
a jump, looked me squarely in the eye, and took her string without
being a bit afraid.

Now do you call that stealing? "No," you answer. Neither do I; to be
sure they took what belonged to me, but the window was wide open, and
I think they must have known I loved the birds and would like to give
them something for their new house. Perhaps they knew, too, that bits
of old twine could not be worth much.

Then how busily they began their work! They had already chosen the
place for their nest, springing up and down in the boughs till they