"Of course not," replied the wren indignantly.
"I thought she must have been," said the Shaggy Man, "because you certainly chatter like a magpie."
"That's enough," declared the wren. "If you can't appreciate intelligent conversation, I shan't waste it upon you. You are far too slow for me anyway. No hard feelings, though—good luck to all of you."
And with that the wren was off, darting swiftly earthward.
Shaggy and his friends all had a good laugh over the gossipy little bird.
Ten minutes more "swimming" brought them within sight of the orchard about which the bird had told them.
"The Hightown sign said 'altitude 15,000 feet,'" said Tom. "That's almost three miles. I can't believe we've been swimming that far."
"Probably they boosted that figure as high as their opinion of Hightown," said Twiffle, "and anyway, it did say the altitude varied. Varies very much, I'd say."
A few minutes later they were standing on the earth in a grove of apple, plum, and cherry trees. Every branch was filled with ripe, luscious fruit. Twink looked for their friend, the wren, but saw nothing of him. The Shaggy Man began looking about the ground for apples. Suddenly he laughed.
"That was really stupid of me," he called to Twink and Tom. "Of course there aren't any apples on the ground. They can't fall off the trees!"