46 GRAY LADY AND THE BIRDS 
were arranged in nests built of narrow, dainty sandwiches, 
little iced cakes rested upon plates of braided corn-husks, 
and Goldilocks’ birthday cake, with its twelve candles, was 
ornamented with little doves made of white sugar. When, 
last and best of all, the ice-cream appeared, without which 
no party is complete, it was in the form of a large white 
hen with a very red comb, while from beneath her peeped 
ice-cream eggs of many colours, chocolate-brown, pistachio- 
green, lemon-yellow, and strawberry-red, the nest being 
woven of spun sugar that so closely resembled fine straw 
that it was not until the children had tasted it that they 
were convinced that it really was candy. 
Country children are usually very silent when on their 
good behaviour, but such ice-cream had never been heard 
of either at Foxes Corners, the Centre, or the near-by 
manufacturing town, and muffled “ohs” and “ahs” of 
satisfaction would break out until, Miss Wilde having given 
no rebuking glance, a perfect babble of enthusiasm arose 
that lasted until the meal was ended. 
“Why, what zs that?” asked Ruth Banks, glancing as 
she spoke toward a very old tree that, having partly 
blown over, was resting on four of its branches that served 
as legs and made it appear like some strange goblin ani- 
mal. On the upper side of this fallen tree, built around 
an upright branch, was a platform made of old wood with 
the bark on, and on the different sections of this were 
peanuts, shelled corn, pounded up dog crackers and 
buckwheat, while on a series of blunt spikes driven into 
the branch, were some lumps of suet and bits of bacon 
rind. As Ruth spoke a little black-and-white bird, with 
short tail and legs, was picking vigorously at the suet, 
