How Agnes Liked being a Bird. 193

 

“Into the red sunbeam on the fir-tree.”

“T haven’t got my wings yet, Willie.”

“ That’s what people very often say when they ’re
not inclined to try what they can do with their
legs.”

“ But I can’t go there, Willie.”

“You haven't tried.”

“ How am I to try?”

“You’re not even trying to try. You're stand-
ing talking, and saying you can’t.”

It was nearly all Agnes could do to keep from
crying. But she felt she must do something more
lest Willie should be vexed, There seemed but
one way to get nearer to the sunbeam, and that
was to go down this tree and run to the foot of
the other. What if Willie had made a stair up
it also? But as she turned to see how she was
to go down, for she had been carried up blind,
she caught sight of the straight staircase between
the two boughs, and, with a shriek of delight, up
she ran,

“ Gently, gently! Don’t bring the tree down
with your tremendous weight,” cried Willie, follow-
ing her close behind.

At the end of the stairs she sprang upon the
bough of the fir, and in a moment more was sitting
in the full light of the sunset,

“OQ Willie! Willie! this zs grand! How good,
how kind of you! You 4ave made a bird of me!