she says when she gets home.'

So the extra coats and hats and mufflers were piled on the carpet.
Cyril shouldered the well and happy Lamb, the Phoenix perched on
Robert's wrist, and 'the party of explorers prepared to enter the
interior'.

The grassy slope was smooth, but under the trees there were tangled
creepers with bright, strange-shaped flowers, and it was not easy
to walk.

'We ought to have an explorer's axe,' said Robert. 'I shall ask
father to give me one for Christmas.'

There were curtains of creepers with scented blossoms hanging from
the trees, and brilliant birds darted about quite close to their
faces.

'Now, tell me honestly,' said the Phoenix, 'are there any birds
here handsomer than I am? Don't be afraid of hurting my
feelings--I'm a modest bird, I hope.'

'Not one of them,' said Robert, with conviction, 'is a patch upon
you!'

'I was never a vain bird,' said the Phoenix, 'but I own that you
confirm my own impression. I will take a flight.' It circled in
the air for a moment, and, returning to Robert's wrist, went on,
'There is a path to the left.'