He had been more agitated during the day than usual, and he felt very weary. Gradually his head dropped down on his arms, which were resting on the table, and he fell fast asleep. Still he thought that he was broad awake. To his surprise he saw before him the bird-cage, which he was sure Fanny had taken up to granny's room, for he had seen her go in with it; but there it stood on the table directly before him. Presently he heard a chirping sound, just as the linnet used to sing, and looking up, there, growing out of nothing, was the branch of a tree, and several little birds exactly like Pecksy perched upon it, while many more were flying through the sky towards him, and evidently coming down to join the others. Instead of singing merrily, however, like little Pecksy, their voices had a croaking angry sound. By degrees the voices changed from the notes of birds into those of human beings. "Naughty, naughty boy!" said a voice which seemed to come from behind, "why did you kill Pecksy?" Norman looked round. There, at the back of his chair he saw perched a bird which nodded its head up and down, and glared at him with its bright little eyes. He was too much frightened to reply; indeed, he had nothing to say for himself. "You will not answer, then I must answer for you," said the voice, which evidently came from the bird, and though it spoke like a human being, yet it had the sound of a bird's notes, only much louder and shriller than any bird he had ever heard. "You know that you were angry with little Robby, and jealous of your sweet sister, and that when old Alec gave her our little brother you resolved to kill it on the first opportunity. You thought of doing that cruel deed not only then, but day after day, and you watched for an opportunity. The opportunity came, and when you let the heavy book fall down on the poor little innocent creature, you knew perfectly well that it must kill him, if it did not press him as flat as a pancake. We will not forget what you have done, Master Norman Vallery. When you come into the garden we will not sing to you sweetly, but we will croak at you like so many crows, and call you `Naughty, naughty boy!' When you run away we will follow you, for we can fly faster than you can run, and we will perch on the branches round you, and croak out, `Naughty, naughty boy!' When you run on still farther to get away from us, we will fly on either side of you, and will croak out, `Naughty, naughty boy!'" "Oh, do not, do not, please do not!" murmured Norman, though he spoke so low that he did not think the bird could hear him. "I will try not to be jealous of Fanny, or to be angry with her or anybody else." "We do not trust you," said the bird on the back of his chair.