as if he had been a cock-robin.

He liked her courage, and said kindly in his rough voice,--

"Hop up, little girl, and sit among my feathers. Hold me fast round the
neck, or you may grow dizzy and get a fall."

Rosy nestled down among the thick gray feathers, and put both arms round
his neck; and whiz they went, up, up, up, higher and higher, till the
trees looked like grass, they were so far below. At first it was very
cold, and Rosy cuddled deeper into her feather bed; then, as they came
nearer to the sun, it grew warm, and she peeped out to see the huts
standing in a green spot on the top of the mountain.

"Here we are. You'll find all the men are down in the mine at this time.
They won't come up till morning; so you will have to wait for your father.
Good-by; good luck, my dear." And the eagle soared away, higher still, to
his nest among the clouds.

It was night now, but fires were burning in all the houses; so Rosy went
from hut to hut trying to find her father's, that she might rest while she
waited: at last in one the picture of a pretty little girl hung on the
wall, and under it was written, "My Rosy." Then she knew that this was the
right place; and she ate some supper, put on more wood, and went to bed,
for she wanted to be fresh when her father came in the morning.

While she slept a storm came on,--thunder rolled and lightning flashed,
the wind blew a gale, and rain poured,--but Rosy never waked till dawn,
when she heard men shouting outside,--