42 SYLVAN SECBETS. 



mote relationship to our bird, but the testi- 

 mony of this does not amount to evidence. 

 We must take Alcyon as he is, without any- 

 genealogical table or ancient armorial relics. 

 He is not an aristocrat, if the index of aris- 

 tocracy is a well-formed foot, for, like all his 

 iiamily, he has but three good toes, and they 

 are as rough and ugly as warts. Compared 

 with those of the mocking-bird, indeed, his 

 feet appear scarcely more than rudimentary 

 (about on a par with his vocal organs, advanc- 

 ing the comparison so as to weigh his rattling 

 laugh with the ecstatic song of Mimuspolyg- 

 lottus), still he perches very firmly and, after 

 a fashion, gracefully. His descent upon a 

 minnow is a miracle of motion, accompanied 

 by a surpassing feat of vision. We will 

 imagine him seated on a bough thirty feet 

 above the brook- stream. The sunshine comes 

 down in flakes like burning snow upon the 

 twinkling, palpitating water, making the 

 surface flicker and glimmer in a way to dis- 

 tract any eye. Down in this water is the 

 minnow which Alcyon is to catch and swal- 

 low, a minnow whose sides are silver just 

 touched with gold, flitting and flashing here 

 and there, never still, flippant as the wavelets 

 themselves. Mark the bird's attitude and ex- 

 pression as they blend into a sort of serio- 

 comic enigma — crest erect and bristling, eyes 

 set and burning, bill elevated at a slight 

 angle, tail depressed, wings shut close, 

 the whole figure motionless. Suddenly he 

 falls like a thought, a sky-blue film marking 

 the line of descent to where he strikes. He 

 pierces the pool like an arrow, disappearing 

 for a second in the centre of a great whirling, 

 leaping bubbling dimple of the water, with a 

 musical plunge-note once heard never forgot- 



