“Oh! oh, how lovely!” cried Dodo, giving her uncle such a sudden hug and kiss that his hat flew off.  “And the lake is a long way off, so first we go in the cars, and then in a big hay wagon with straw in the bottom—­at least, that is the way Olive said she went the last time!”

CHAPTER XXV

CANNIBALS IN COURT

Dodo’s birthday and a disappointment came together on the eighth, and the disappointment took the shape of a rainy day.  Not an early morning shower, with promise of warmth and clear weather; for it was one of the cold, northeasterly storms that are very trying at any time of the year, but doubly so when they come in July, and seem, for the time, to turn summer into autumn.

Dodo, Nat, Rap, and Olive stood under the shelter of the porch, the children vainly hoping that it might clear up before nine o’clock—­the hour the train left—­and Olive racking her brain for something that would soothe their feelings.  “We might ask mammy to let us go into the kitchen and make candy,” she said.  “The weather is too damp and sticky for molasses candy, but butter-scotch will harden if we put it in the dairy.”  Even this did not seem to be very tempting to little people who had expected to go to the real Owl woods, and Quick barked and yelped as if he, too, felt cheated out of an expected excursion.

Presently the Doctor came out and saw the forlorn group, which, being quite heedless of the sharp slant of the rain, was rather wet and limp.

“Poor little bird-hunters!” he said—­rather too cheerfully, they thought—­“you look as unhappy as the party of astronomers who went all the way to Africa to photograph an eclipse of the sun, and when the time came were so excited that they forgot to open the camera, and so took no pictures.  Come into the hall and I will tell you about a plan I have.  Catching cold isn’t a nice game for a birthday party.

“You expected to hear something about the cannibal birds to-day, and see the woods where a great many of them live and make their nests, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” said Dodo; “we wanted to know why they are cannibals, and see where the wicked things live that eat little Chickens and song birds.”

“Very well.  Now do you know that though all Hawks and Owls sometimes eat other birds and help themselves to poultry from the barnyards, yet at the same time most of them are the farmer’s best friends?”

“No,” said Rap; “I thought they were all bad, evil birds, and that the Government often gave money to people for killing them; besides, I am sure that a Hawk took eleven of our little Chickens this very spring!”

“The Wise Men have been looking up the records of these cannibals—­or Birds of Prey, as they are usually called—­and find that very few of them—­only two or three kinds, perhaps—­should be condemned to death.  The others belong to the secret guild of the Wise Watchers who, sitting silently in the shadows of the woods, or perching in the trees around the edges of fields, wait for rats, mice, moles, rabbits, gophers, beetles, cutworms, and many other creatures which destroy vegetable life.  The Wise Watchers kill these hurtful creatures, and so become the guardians of the fields.”