Ch. 2 - The Thrush's Nest

Shelley was a young gentleman and as grown-up as he need ever expect
to be. He was a poet; and they are never exactly grown-up. They are
people who despise money except what you need for to-day, and he had
all that and five pounds over. So, when he was walking in the
Kensington Gardens, he made a paper boat of his bank-note, and sent it
sailing on the Serpentine.

It reached the island at night: and the look-out brought it to
Solomon Caw, who thought at first that it was the usual thing, a
message from a lady, saying she would be obliged if he could let her
have a good one. They always ask for the best one he has, and if he
likes the letter he sends one from Class A, but if it ruffles him he
sends very funny ones indeed. Sometimes he sends none at all, and at
another time he sends a nestful; it all depends on the mood you catch
him in. He likes you to leave it all to him, and if you mention
particularly that you hope he will see his way to making it a boy this
time, he is almost sure to send another girl. And whether you are a
lady or only a little boy who wants a baby-sister, always take pains
to write your address clearly. You can't think what a lot of babies
Solomon has sent to the wrong house.

Shelley's boat, when opened, completely puzzled Solomon, and he took
counsel of his assistants, who having walked over it twice, first with
their toes pointed out, and then with their toes pointed in, decided
that it came from some greedy person who wanted five. They thought
this because there was a large five printed on it. "Preposterous!"
cried Solomon in a rage, and he presented it to Peter; anything
useless which drifted upon the island was usually given to Peter as a
play-thing.

But he did not play with his precious bank-note, for he knew what it
was at once, having been very observant during the week when he was an
ordinary boy. With so much money, he reflected, he could surely at
last contrive to reach the Gardens, and he considered all the possible
ways, and decided (wisely, I think) to choose the best way. But,
first, he had to tell the birds of the value of Shelley's boat; and
though they were too honest to demand it back, he saw that they were
galled, and they cast such black looks at Solomon, who was rather vain
of his cleverness, that he flew away to the end of the island, and sat
there very depressed with his head buried in his wings. Now Peter
knew that unless Solomon was on your side, you never got anything done
for you in the island, so he followed him and tried to hearten him.

Nor was this all that Peter did to pin the powerful old fellow's good
will. You must know that Solomon had no intention of remaining in
office all his life. He looked forward to retiring