"Let us go to the fruit-room," said the father, directing his steps
thither. "I fear this will prove a sad affair."

"What is this, too," cried Mary, examining the shelves, "the big key
of the cellar here Where did it come from? And this key covered with
cheese, from one end to the other!"

"Let us go to the cellar!" said the father. "I believe we shall find
out more there than we can here."

They opened the door, and found the brilliant silver knife, not in
the magpie's nest, but sticking in a cheese, from which a large
portion appeared to have been detached.

The children were amazed, and their Father much grieved.

"Here is your knife, Mary," said John, who first saw it. "Certainly,
there is no need of a looking-glass to find it."

"You must not joke, my children," said the Father; "this is a very
sad business. I am thankful it has taken place in the absence of your
dear Mother, and I forbid you writing her anything about it. This
must concern me, and me alone."

_William_.--(Indignantly.)--"It amounts to a theft, a falsehood!"

_Lucy_.--"But who has done it, William? Did not Mary leave her
knife here?"

_William_.--"Who saw the Magpie carrying it off in his beak?"