Page 17 - A Little Bush Maid
P. 17

"He’s such a wise old chap," Jim would say; "nobody knows what he’s
               thinking of!"



               Tn her heart of hearts Norah did not believe that mattered very much.



               But when the stables had been visited and Bobs and Sirdar (Jim’s neglected
               pony) interviewed; when Tait and Puck had had their breakfast bones;

               when wallabies and kangaroo had been inspected (with a critical eye to
               their water tins), and the turtle had impassively received a praiseworthy

               attempt to draw him out; when the chicks had all been fed, and the guinea
               pigs (unlike the leopard) had changed their spot for the day--there still
               remained the birds.



               The birds were a colony in themselves. There was a big aviary, large

               enough for little trees and big shrubs to grow in, where a happy family
               lived whose members included several kinds of honey-eaters, Queensland
               finches, blackbirds and a dozen other tiny shy things which flitted quickly

               from bush to bush all day. They knew Norah and, when she entered their
               home, would flutter down and perch on her head and shoulders, and look

               inquisitively for the flowers she always brought them. Sometimes Norah
               would wear some artificial flowers, by way of a joke. Tt was funny to see
               the little honey-eaters thrusting in their long beaks again and again in

                search of the sweet drops they had learned to expect in flowers, and funnier
                still to watch the air of disgust with which they would give up the attempt.



               There were doves everywhere--not in cages, for they never tried to escape.
               Their soft "coo" murmured drowsily all around. There were pigeons, too, in

               a most elaborate pigeon cote--another effort of Jim’s carpentering skill.
               These were as tame as the smaller birds, and on Norah’s appearance would

                swoop down upon her in a cloud. They had done so once when she was
               mounted on Bobs, to the pony’s very great alarm and disgust. He took to his
               heels promptly.  "T don’t think he stopped for two miles!" Norah said. Since

               then, however, Bobs had grown used to the pigeons fluttering and circling
               round him. Tt was a pretty sight to watch them all together, child and pony

               half hidden beneath their load of birds.
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