"I will not talk," Phyllis whispered back, shutting her lips very tightly and sitting down beside her brother with a little sigh.
Jack threw his line—Phyllis watched with awe. They sat for a moment waiting for a "bite."
Then Jack jerked the line up sharply, not so much because he thought he had caught something, as because he hoped he would catch something.
"I don't believe there are any fish here," he grumbled at last.
But Phyllis's bright eyes had caught sight of something and she forgot all about the fishing and her resolve not to speak.
"Look!" she cried, pointing to a fallen tree-trunk which hung over the water.
On a branch sat a bird. He was considerably larger than a robin.
