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The Story of the Opal.
59

arm on his tiny ladder, and listening to the chatter of the birds.

“But I shall try to keep awake to-night to see her,” said a young Bullfinch.

“Nonsense!” said its mother. “You shall do no such thing.”

“But the Nightingale says she is so very lovely,” said a Wren, looking out from her little nest in a hedge close by.

“The Nightingale!” said the old Bullfinch, scornfully. “Every one knows that the Nightingale was moonstruck long ago. Who can trust a word he says ?”

“Nevertheless, I should like to see her,” said the Wren.

“I have seen her, and the Nightingale is right,” said a Wood-dove in its soft, cooing tones. “I was awake last night and saw her; she is more lovely than anything that ever came here before.”

“Of whom are you talking?” asked the Sun-beam; and he shot across to the Bullfinch’s nest. All the birds were silent when they saw him. At last the Bullfinch said, “Only of a Moonbeam, your Highness. No one your Highness would

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