"More, more, William; see! they are not satisfied."

"I dare not give them more for fear of killing them, we cannot feed
them like the mother. We will stand still at a little distance, and
you will see them go to sleep." When all was quiet, the little
nestlings shut their mouths, and dropped their heads.

"I should like to see the mother feed them."

"You would see how much better she would do it than we can; perhaps,
if we could conceal ourselves behind that laurel, she would come, but
she will be very frightened, because all is so altered now the grass
is cut down, and her nest is exposed; but I dare say she is not for
off, she will be watching somewhere."

They took William's hint, and retreated behind the laurel; they had
not waited ten minutes, before the hen bird flitted past, and,
darting over the larch, as if to inspect whether her little brood was
safe, she disappeared again. In a few minutes more, she returned,
skimming round to reconnoitre that all was safe, she perched upon the
nest. Instantly the little nestlings were awake to the summons of her
touch and chirp, and, opening their mouths wide, were ready for what
she would give. She dropt a small fly into the mouth of one of them,
and, having no more, flew away to provide for the other hungry mouths
as fast as she could. As soon as she was gone, they again shut their
mouths, and dropt their heads in silence.

"What a little bit she gave them," said Frances.