This was the lark's wife, who stayed at home with the young larks while her husband went to church.
"Oh! thank you. If you please," answered Tricksey-Wee.
And up popped a pretty brown head; and then up came a brown feathery body; and last of all came the slender legs on to the edge of the nest. There she turned, and, looking down into the nest, from which came a whole litany of chirpings for breakfast, said, "Lie still, little ones." Then she turned to the children.
"My husband is King of the Larks," she said.
Buffy-Bob took off his cap, and Tricksey-Wee courtesied very low.
"Oh, it's not me," said the bird, looking very shy. "I am only his wife. It's my husband." And she looked up after him into the sky, whence his song was still falling like a shower of musical hailstones. Perhaps she could see him.
"He's a splendid bird," said Buffy-Bob; "only you know he will get up a little too early."
"Oh, no! he doesn't. It's only his way, you know. But tell me what I can do for you."
"Tell us, please, Lady Lark, where the she-eagle lives that sits on
Giant Thunderthump's heart."
"Oh! that is a secret."