Lining for a cozy nest."
The children walked on slowly, singing their song, and one bird called to another to listen, until a flock flitted from tree to tree, following them and looking down with bright eyes at Iona's golden curls.
At last a larger bird joined the throng. As soon as he heard the children's song and took a good look at Iona's golden hair he flapped his wings and made a great outcry. He was a magpie and a great talker at all times, but now he shrieked at the top of his lungs.
"A hawk! A hawk! Fly, Fly!" and all the other birds fled away with the speed of arrows.
As soon as they were out of sight the magpie flew down to Iona.
"Go no further," he said, and his eyes shone as a sunbeam glinted on Iona's curls. "I have your key. Do you mean what you said about the curl?"
"O yes, Mr. Magpie," cried the children.
"Then I can bite it off right now," said the magpie, "and carry it up to my tree when I go to get the key, which is woven into the side of my nest."
Iona put her head down obediently, but Pierre stepped in front of her.