"We won't trust you," echoed the others, perched on the branch. "We shall do as we have said; you will find that we can keep our promise, though you are ready enough to break yours. Who killed cock robin, who killed cock robin, who killed cock robin?" sang the birds in chorus. "That little boy there, with his head on the table!" answered the bird at the back of his chair. "But he did not do it with a bow and arrow, he did it with a big heavy book, and it was not cock robin he killed, but our dear little brother Pecksy, the naughty, naughty boy!" "Oh, I am so sorry!" groaned Norman. "You are right, I own that you are right, but do not scold me any more." "We shall see how you behave yourself. If you are a good boy we may relent, but if not, when you go into the woods, instead of singing sweetly as we do to your sister, and trying our best to give her pleasure, we will keep our promise, and croak in your ears, `Naughty, naughty boy!'" Norman tried to cry out, to ask the birds not to be so angry with him. Just then he heard another voice saying-- "My dear Norman, you are sleeping very uncomfortably with your head on the table, let me put you on the sofa. Your papa will soon be here, and after a little rest you will look fresh and ready to receive him." Norman lifted up his head and saw his mamma leaning over him. The cage was gone, and the branch with all the birds on it had disappeared. He looked round, expecting to see the angry little bird at the back of his chair, but that had gone also, and he found, greatly to his relief, that he had been dreaming. He told his mamma what he had seen. "It was all your fancy, Norman," she answered, "you were over-excited and tired. I will sit by you and take care that the birds do not come back again." His mamma placed him on the sofa and sat down by his side. Norman was very soon again fast asleep, but the birds did not return, he only heard Fanny's sweet voice telling him how much she loved him, and wished to forgive him all the harm he had done. He awoke much refreshed and happier than he had been for a long time. "Here is papa! here is Captain Vallery!" he heard several voices exclaim. Directly afterwards Captain Vallery entered the drawing-room with his mamma and Fanny who had run out to meet him. Norman jumped up from the sofa. "Why, my dear boy, you look rosy and well and fat, as if the Highland air agreed with you," said his papa, stooping down and kissing him. "Why mamma, how grown he is. You will soon be a big boy, and able to play at cricket and football, and fish and shoot." "I can answer for it that he will soon be able to fish if he follows my directions," observed the laird. "He already has some notion of throwing a fly, and I hope in the course of a year or two that he will turn out a good fisher." "I hope he will turn out a good boy," observed Mrs Leslie, "for that is of more consequence, and I trust that he will become some day all we can desire."