as large as a blackbird. When it flew it kept low, with a weak and
peculiar flight that was deceiving; and when Mrs. Blackie, following
it, and yelling like several shrews, got too close, it turned its head,
and said, "Wark! wark!" in a harsh and warning way.

Blackie joined in with his deeper "Twoit-twoit-twoit!" just by way of
lending official dignity to the proceedings. Whereupon his wife,
feeling that he had backed her up, redoubled her excitement and shrill
abuse.

And they spent two solid hours at this fool's game, helped by a robin,
a blue tit, and a chaffinch or two--the chaffinch must have his finger
in every pie--following that gray bird from nowhere, while it moved
about the garden in its shuffling flight, or alternately sat and
scowled at them. But it must be admitted that Blackie himself looked
rather bored, and might have gone off for breakfast any time, if he had
dared.

As a matter of fact, however, the bird did not stand upon the Register
of Bad Deeds as being a terror of even the mildest kind of blackbirds.
Red-backed shrike was her name, female was her sex, and from Africa had
she come. Goodness knows where she was going, but not far, probably;
and the largest thing in the bird line she appeared able to tackle was
something of the chaffinch size. But, all the same, Mrs. Blackie
seemed jolly well certain that she knew better.

Then arrived the bombshell.

One of the Blackie youngsters, stump-tailed, frog-mouthed, blundering,
foolish, gawky, and squawking, landed, all of a heap, right into the