croaking there like a packet of Magpies!"
But the Starling was not listening. He was turning somersaults on the window-sill, clapping his wings wildly together each time his head came up.
"What a treat!" he panted, when at last he stood up straight. "What a TREAT! Oh, I could sing!"
"You couldn't. Not if you tried till Doomsday!" scoffed Mary Poppins.
But the Starling was too happy to care.
"A girl!" he shrieked, dancing on his toes. "I've had three broods this season and—would you believe it?—every one of them boys. But Annabel will make up to me for that!"
He hopped a little along the sill. "Annabel!" he burst out again, "That's a nice name! I had an Aunt called Annabel. Used to live in Admiral Boom's chimney and died, poor thing, of eating green apples and grapes. I warned her, I warned her! But she wouldn't believe me! So, of course——"
"Will you be quiet!" demanded Mary Poppins, making a dive at him with her apron.
"I will not!" he shouted, dodging neatly. "This is no time for silence. I'm going to spread the news."
He swooped out of the window.
"Back in five minutes!" he screamed at her over his shoulder, as he darted away.
Mary Poppins moved quietly about the Nursery, putting Annabel's new clothes in a neat pile.
The Sunlight, slipping in at the window, crept across the room and up to the cradle.
"Open your eyes!" it said softly. "And I'll put a shine on them!"
The coverlet of the cradle trembled. Annabel opened her eyes.
"Good girl!" said the Sunlight. "They're blue, I see. My favourite colour! There! You won't find a brighter pair of eyes anywhere!"
It slipped lightly out of Annabel's eyes and down the side of the cradle.
"Thank you very much!" said Annabel politely.
A warm Breeze stirred the muslin flounces at her head.
"Curls or straight?" it whispered, dropping into the cradle beside her.
"Oh, curls, please!" said Annabel softly.
"It does save trouble, doesn't it?" agreed the Breeze. And it moved over her head, carefully turning up the feathery edges of her hair, before it fluttered off across the room.
"Here we are! Here we are!"
A harsh voice shrilled from the window. The Starling had returned to the sill. And behind him, wobbling uncertainly as he alighted, came a very young bird.
Mary Poppins moved towards them threateningly.
"Now you be off!" she said angrily. "I'll have no sparrers littering up this Nursery——"
But the Starling, with the young one at his side, brushed haughtily past her.
"Kindly remember, Mary Poppins," he said icily, "that
all
my families are properly brought up. Littering, indeed!"
He alighted neatly on the edge of the cradle and steadied the Fledgling beside him.
The young bird stared about him with round, inquisitive eyes. The Starling hopped along to the pillow.
"Annabel, dear," he began, in a husky, wheedling voice, "I'm very partial to a nice, crisp, crunchy piece of Arrowroot Biscuit." His eyes twinkled greedily. "You haven't one about you, I suppose?"
The curled head stirred on the pillow.
"No? Well, you're young yet for biscuits, perhaps. Your sister Barbara—nice girl, she was, very generous and pleasant—always remembered me. So if, in the future,
you
could spare the old fellow a crumb or two——"
"Of course I will," said Annabel from the folds of the blanket.
"Good girl!" croaked the Starling approvingly. He cocked his head on one side and gazed at her with his round bright eye. "I hope," he remarked politely, "you are not too tired after your journey."
Annabel shook her head.
"Where has she come from—out of an egg?" cheeped the Fledgling suddenly.
"Huh-huh!" scoffed Mary Poppins. "Do you think she's a sparrer?"
The Starling gave her a pained and haughty look.
"Well, what is she, then? And where did she come from?" cried the Fledgling shrilly, flapping his short wings and staring down at the cradle.
"
You
tell him, Annabel!" the Starling croaked.
Annabel moved her hands inside the blanket.
"I am earth and air and fire and
But the Starling was not listening. He was turning somersaults on the window-sill, clapping his wings wildly together each time his head came up.
"What a treat!" he panted, when at last he stood up straight. "What a TREAT! Oh, I could sing!"
"You couldn't. Not if you tried till Doomsday!" scoffed Mary Poppins.
But the Starling was too happy to care.
"A girl!" he shrieked, dancing on his toes. "I've had three broods this season and—would you believe it?—every one of them boys. But Annabel will make up to me for that!"
He hopped a little along the sill. "Annabel!" he burst out again, "That's a nice name! I had an Aunt called Annabel. Used to live in Admiral Boom's chimney and died, poor thing, of eating green apples and grapes. I warned her, I warned her! But she wouldn't believe me! So, of course——"
"Will you be quiet!" demanded Mary Poppins, making a dive at him with her apron.
"I will not!" he shouted, dodging neatly. "This is no time for silence. I'm going to spread the news."
He swooped out of the window.
"Back in five minutes!" he screamed at her over his shoulder, as he darted away.
Mary Poppins moved quietly about the Nursery, putting Annabel's new clothes in a neat pile.
The Sunlight, slipping in at the window, crept across the room and up to the cradle.
"Open your eyes!" it said softly. "And I'll put a shine on them!"
The coverlet of the cradle trembled. Annabel opened her eyes.
"Good girl!" said the Sunlight. "They're blue, I see. My favourite colour! There! You won't find a brighter pair of eyes anywhere!"
It slipped lightly out of Annabel's eyes and down the side of the cradle.
"Thank you very much!" said Annabel politely.
A warm Breeze stirred the muslin flounces at her head.
"Curls or straight?" it whispered, dropping into the cradle beside her.
"Oh, curls, please!" said Annabel softly.
"It does save trouble, doesn't it?" agreed the Breeze. And it moved over her head, carefully turning up the feathery edges of her hair, before it fluttered off across the room.
"Here we are! Here we are!"
A harsh voice shrilled from the window. The Starling had returned to the sill. And behind him, wobbling uncertainly as he alighted, came a very young bird.
Mary Poppins moved towards them threateningly.
"Now you be off!" she said angrily. "I'll have no sparrers littering up this Nursery——"
But the Starling, with the young one at his side, brushed haughtily past her.
"Kindly remember, Mary Poppins," he said icily, "that
all
my families are properly brought up. Littering, indeed!"
He alighted neatly on the edge of the cradle and steadied the Fledgling beside him.
The young bird stared about him with round, inquisitive eyes. The Starling hopped along to the pillow.
"Annabel, dear," he began, in a husky, wheedling voice, "I'm very partial to a nice, crisp, crunchy piece of Arrowroot Biscuit." His eyes twinkled greedily. "You haven't one about you, I suppose?"
The curled head stirred on the pillow.
"No? Well, you're young yet for biscuits, perhaps. Your sister Barbara—nice girl, she was, very generous and pleasant—always remembered me. So if, in the future,
you
could spare the old fellow a crumb or two——"
"Of course I will," said Annabel from the folds of the blanket.
"Good girl!" croaked the Starling approvingly. He cocked his head on one side and gazed at her with his round bright eye. "I hope," he remarked politely, "you are not too tired after your journey."
Annabel shook her head.
"Where has she come from—out of an egg?" cheeped the Fledgling suddenly.
"Huh-huh!" scoffed Mary Poppins. "Do you think she's a sparrer?"
The Starling gave her a pained and haughty look.
"Well, what is she, then? And where did she come from?" cried the Fledgling shrilly, flapping his short wings and staring down at the cradle.
"
You
tell him, Annabel!" the Starling croaked.
Annabel moved her hands inside the blanket.
"I am earth and air and fire and
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