"Why do you mostly have something nice for us to eat on bird-days?" asked Dodo, cuddling into the bend of her uncle's arm.
"For two reasons, girlie. When I was a boy, being out of doors made me so hungry that it always seemed a long time between breakfast and dinner. I know that little brains remember best when the stomachs that nourish them are not empty. Neither Bird Children nor House Children should go too long hungry; it is as bad as nibbling all day."
"I've noticed since I came here I haven't needed even to peep in the cooky box between times. Aren't you one of the seven Wise Men of—of—I-forget-where?" asked Dodo, hugging him.
"Greece," answered the Doctor; "no, fortunately, I am not, for they are all dead."
"What's that?" whispered Rap, pointing toward the river, whence a strong, rapid, musical song came, ending before you could catch the syllables, and then being repeated two or three times.
"It is the Cardinal," said, the Doctor, in some surprise—for the bird was singing almost at noon. "I can see his red liberty cap near the top of the tallest hemlock!"
"Che-o—hoo—hoo," called the Cardinal, and then the ice-cream pail arrived, escorted by Nat.
"This is a festival for us as well as for the Cardinal," said Rap.
The Indigo Bird
Length five and a half inches.