“_Two little birds they sat on a stone_, _One swam away_, _and then there was one_, _With a fal-lal-la-lady_. “_The other swam after_, _and then there was none_, _And so the poor stone was left all alone_; _With a fal-lal-la-lady_.” It was “flew” away, properly, and not “swam” away: but, as she could not fly, she had a right to alter it. However, it was a very fit song for her to sing, because she was a lady herself. Tom came up to her very humbly, and made his bow; and the first thing she said was— “Have you wings? Can you fly?” “Oh dear, no, ma’am; I should not think of such thing,” said cunning little Tom. “Then I shall have great pleasure in talking to you, my dear. It is quite refreshing nowadays to see anything without wings. They must all have wings, forsooth, now, every new upstart sort of bird, and fly. What can they want with flying, and raising themselves above their proper station in life? In the days of my ancestors no birds ever thought of having wings, and did very well without; and now they all laugh at me because I keep to the good old fashion. Why, the very marrocks and dovekies have got wings, the vulgar creatures, and poor little ones enough they are; and my own cousins too, the razor-bills, who are gentlefolk born, and ought to know better than to ape their inferiors.” And so she was running on, while Tom tried to get in a word edgeways; and at last he did, when the old lady got out of breath, and began fanning herself again; and then he asked if she knew the way to Shiny Wall.