"Yes," said Mr. Blair. "When is your birthday?"
"Wednesday week," replied Murtagh. "Come along out," he exclaimed, after devoting about three minutes to his breakfast, "and let us read what the pretty mother says. You come, too, Nessa. We'll go to the big chestnut tree; that's where we always read their letters aloud." And taking a bit of bread to supplement his hasty meal, he rose from the table and led the way out.
"We get up in the branches," said Rosie, "and sometimes we pretend it's a sort of church."
"Only, last letter day," said Winnie, "we pretended we were a family of squirrels, and mamma's letter was a dear little white dove flown over the seas to tell us not to steal nuts and apples from the other squirrels. It's such fun pretending, and then we put little pieces in the letters."
"And then we went off to Nut Wood to get ourselves some instead of stealing," said Bobbo, "and when Winnie was up in the very top branch of the bull's-eye tree, Mr. Plunkett came past and saw her, and called out, 'What are you stealing those nuts for?'"
"And I thought about him being a squirrel, and running up and down the trees whisking his tail," interrupted Winnie, "and I laughed so much I tumbled off the tree, and gave myself such a whack I haven't quite got well yet."
"And another day we were just Irish kings and queens, and papa's letter was some river fairies come down to warn us about some scoundrelly English taking our chief palace—that's the island. We rushed up there at once, and lo and behold! that old piggamy, Mr. Plunkett, had chopped down our watch-tower, a splendid old oak tree that had its branches blasted with lightning, the only one on the island. So the English had been there, true enough."
The Children showing Nessa the Grounds.