and nests there, and then it's desperately hard to get them out,—it takes a vacuum cleaner to do it."
"That makes me think!" exclaimed Marjorie: "I once knew a perfectly darling old lady who had a little wee pillow—only about six inches square—that she kept to put over her head because the robins wakened her too early in the morning."
The Dream nodded. "Plenty of people shut out the bird songs with one or another sort of prejudice and——Pretty view, isn't it?" he added, waving his hand carelessly.
Marjorie raised her head. "Oh!" she exclaimed, gasping, "I never, never saw anything so wonderful! Look at the purple sea—real pansy purple—and the long lines of white surf, and—oh, did you see that wave break, 'way down there on those rocks? Did you see how high it went? Let's watch them. I'm afraid the next one won't come so high, though."
"Afraid it won't?" said the Dream.
