anxiously.

'Why?' it asked, puffing out the golden feathers, 'do you wish me
to stay here?'

'Oh YES,' said every one, with unmistakable sincerity.

'Why?' asked the Phoenix again, looking modestly at the
table-cloth.

'Because,' said every one at once, and then stopped short; only
Jane added after a pause, 'you are the most beautiful person we've
ever seen.'
'You are a sensible child,' said the Phoenix, 'and I will NOT
vanish or anything sudden. And I will tell you my tale. I had
resided, as your book says, for many thousand years in the
wilderness, which is a large, quiet place with very little really
good society, and I was becoming weary of the monotony of my
existence. But I acquired the habit of laying my egg and burning
myself every five hundred years--and you know how difficult it is
to break yourself of a habit.'

'Yes,' said Cyril; 'Jane used to bite her nails.'

'But I broke myself of it,' urged Jane, rather hurt, 'You know I
did.'

'Not till they put bitter aloes on them,' said Cyril.

'I doubt,' said the bird, gravely, 'whether even bitter aloes (the