“Do?” repeated the Paroquet, who began to evince a friendliness I had not given him credit for. “Why, make the best of it, of course, and if you are so anxious to find Black-Eyes and Bright-Hair again, go over to St. Augustine after them. It is not so very far: I’ve been there. I know the way. I’ll go with you and start now, to-day, if you like. It’s up the river a ways, and then across the wildest, swampiest piece of country you ever saw. But St. Augustine is lovely—some like that North you are so delighted with, and maybe you will make up your mind to stay there if you do not find the children.” “And I almost know I shall not,” returned Mrs. Red, who seemed to be quite discouraged, “for how shall I know where to look for them?” “Look! Why, look everywhere, at all the hotels and boarding-houses, but mostly at the Old Fort and in a square they call the Plaza. Children all like to play there. We shall find them, don’t you fear, so come; it is getting almost noon, and we ought to be off. We will fly across the river first, and then hunt a bug or two for dinner, before we start again, so here goes.” And spreading his beautiful green wings, the Paroquet flew swiftly away, followed by Mrs. Red, who moved more slowly, for she was tired, and had not much heart or courage left. I was half afraid she would drop into the water, but the Paroquet evidently encouraged her to exert herself as much as possible, and at last I was glad to see that they were fairly over the river, and resting on a live-oak tree. Then I started as from a dream, and wondered if it were really true that I had heard birds talk together, and if poor Reddie would ever find Florence and Johnnie again, and be happy once more. I hoped she would, and that I might know it; and I did, for when the spring came, and, with many other travelers, I started for home on the _City of Savannah_, I noticed upon the boat two lovely children, a boy and girl, one with beautiful black eyes, and the other with eyes as blue as the April sky over our heads. _Fornce_ the little boy called his sister, and then I guessed at once I had found Black-Eyes and Bright-Hair, and remembering Mrs. Red I said to the little girl one day: “Isn’t your name Florence and your brother’s name Johnnie, and don’t you live in Chicago?” “Why, yes,” she answered, looking curiously at me. “How did you know that?” “Oh, I guessed it,” I said, and then I added: “Did you ever have a Red-bird in a cage, which you let go one morning?” “Yes,” she replied; “but I think I have her again. I’m almost sure of it. She is in my stateroom. Don’t you want to see her?”