My uncle, who followed me, was laughing. “You are a gentle bird, Dicky-Dick, but you will have trouble as long as you live. All birds of your class do.”
“What is my class?” I asked.
“Explorers, adventurers, rovers, birds who will not stay at home and rest in the parental nest. They flutter their wings and fly, and a hawk is always hovering in the sky.”
“I have lots of fun,” I said.
“No doubt, but take care that you do not lose your life.”
“Excuse me, dear uncle,” I said, “there is my
friend, Chummy Hole-in-the-Wall, he has important news for me.”
“Don’t you think, as you are away from your family so much, that it would be polite to stay with them a little while, and let those outsiders alone?”
“I will come back to them,” I said; “I must see Chummy now, I must, I must,” and, singing vivaciously, I flew to a corner where Chummy was perched on the wire netting, looking down at us.
“What news, what news?” I sang.