"The use of it! Why, to keep his shaving-cloths in, of course. Mr. Leslie has one something like this, only not half so pretty," said Fairy, eyeing her handiwork with admiration. "It is much too good for Jack," said Charlie, who had come back from his pigs. "Nothing is too good for Jack, is it, mother?" asked Fairy, with an imperceptible nod at Willie. "It is very unsuitable, Fairy, and I think it is a pity you cut up that quilt for it; but come and help me to finish this smock, you idle child, do." "That dreadful smock! and I know Jack will never, never, never put it on, though we have pricked our fingers over it for weeks. And John will be angry, and insist, and Jack will be in a passion, and refuse, and instead of having a nice happy birthday, poor old Jack will be miserable. Mother, let's give him the smock to-night, and have the row over before to-morrow. Run and get me my thimble, Charlie, please, and Willie, thread my needle for me, and I'll soon help mother to finish this ugly smock," said Fairy, seating herself with a business-like air as she folded up the shaving-case in some silk paper. "Well, it is not a bad plan, Fairy; we will give Jack the smock when he comes in this evening," said Mrs. Shelley. "Yes; and I'll keep my present till to-morrow, and that will put him in a good temper, before we start for our picnic," said Fairy, stitching away with great energy. An hour later, just as the smock was finished and the boys were gone to get tea ready, the shepherd entered at the gate carrying a quantity of wheatears threaded on crow-quills. He looked vexed, and Mrs. Shelley, who could read her husband's face like a book, asked what was the matter. "Why, again Jack has forgotten to attend to those traps for the wheatears; when I did them myself I caught a hundred in one day; now I leave them to him I get perhaps eighteen to twenty, because he is too lazy to dig out the turf and make the traps properly; here are only ten brace this evening, and they are as plentiful as sparrows just now." "John, you are a greedy man, and Jack is not lazy; he does not approve of killing birds; he thinks it is cruel, that is why he has not seen to the traps, so you must not scold him about it, will you?" said Fairy, looking up into the shepherd's grave face, as she stroked the white breasts of the wheatears. "You had better see to the traps yourself, John; there is always a fuss about them every summer since you gave them to Jack to attend to. You know, as Fairy says, he is so fond of birds, and he knows so much about them too, that he can't bear snaring them." "Knows so much about them! I should think he did. Why Mr. Leslie says if Jack had only the means of getting himself some good books, he would be a first-rate ornithologist, which means a man learned in birds, John," said Fairy.