However, the sun shone so brightly, and the prospect of a visit to Hammersmith Broadway on a Saturday afternoon appealed so strongly to Nurse that she put on her bonnet and trotted off with Michael up Carlington Road, and stopped a red omnibus, and fussed her way into it, and held the tickets in her mouth while she put away her purse, and told Michael not to fidget with his legs and not to look round behind him at what was passing on that side of the road, until at last they arrived. The canary-shop was found, and two canaries and a bird-cage were bought, together with packets of seed and a bird’s bath and a pennyworth of groundsel and plantains. Nurse told Michael to wait in the shop while the birds were being prepared for travelling, and while she herself went to the chemist to buy a remedy for the neuralgia which she prophesied was imminent. Michael talked to the canary-man and asked a lot of questions which the canary-man seemed very glad to answer; and finally Nurse, looking much better, came back from the chemist with a large bottle wrapped up in a newspaper. In the omnibus, going home, Michael never took his eyes from the cage, anxious to see how the birds bore the jolting. Sometimes they said ‘sweet,’ and then Michael would say ‘sweet,’ and a pleasant old lady opposite would say ‘sweet,’ and soon all the people inside the omnibus were saying ‘sweet,’ except Nurse, who was chewing her veil and making the most extraordinary faces. It was very exciting to stand on tiptoe in the kitchen while Mrs. Frith cut the string and displayed the canaries in all the splendour of their cage. “Beautiful things,” said Mrs. Frith. “I’m that fond of birds.” “Don’t they hop!” said Annie. “Not a bit frightened they don’t seem, do they?” “What are their names?” Mrs. Frith enquired. Michael thought for a long time. “What _are_ their names, Mrs. Frith?” he asked at last. “That’s your business,” said Cook. “Why is it?” Michael wanted to know. “Because they’re your birds, stupid.” “One’s Stella’s.” “Well, Stella isn’t old enough to choose for herself. Come along, what are you going to call them?” “You call them,” said Michael persuasively. “Well, if they was mine I should call them——” Cook paused. “What would you?” said Michael, more persuasively than ever. “I’m blessed if I know. There, Annie, what does anyone call a canary?” “Don’t ask me, I’m sure. No,” simpered Annie. “I shouldn’t call them nothing, I shouldn’t,” Mrs. Frith finally decided. “It isn’t like dogs.” “What’s the matter?” said Nurse, bustling into the kitchen. “Has one got out? Has one got out?” “I was telling Master Michael here,” said Cook, “as how I shouldn’t call neither of them nothing. Not if I was he.” “Call what? Call what?” Nurse asked quickly.