make a ball-dress for Miss Pompadour out

of it. How disappointed her will be!" and Posy was almost ready to cry with disappointment herself.

All this time the sparrow had the piece of red ribbon safe in his little claw, and was flying away with it to the old swallow's nest under the eaves of the piazza where he had slept of late.

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"Posy appeared, dancing along."—Page 110.