169 



Well, sir, we hadn't g'ot rid of that 

 blunderer yet. The nex' time she brought 

 another, bigger one, along. Both crowd- 

 ed up and looked in our door. You 

 never saw such beauties as our bairns 

 that day. Just gettin' so plump and 

 featherin' right along. But it meant a 

 sight o' work for us. They just sat and 

 took in every mouthful we could rake and 

 scrape. They kep' us busy. Well, when 

 these blunderin' rags shook the house the 

 bairns all up and spread their jaws wide 

 open. Rags thought it was awful cute, 

 but I'm thankful they didn't offer to feed 

 'em anything. Did bad en£)ugh, anyhow. 

 Big one said, "Why don't you take their 

 picture?" First rags said she couldn't. 

 Second rags said she'd try, anyhow. With 

 that, first rags began to sn^ap ofif our best 



defenses — ^without so much as by your 

 leave. They scratched her good, any- 

 how ; for she said so. Well, she put some 

 kind of square black gun right up to our 

 door. Dame Chat went into hysterics 

 and those little Chats just boiled over 

 like a teakettle and went out the nest in 

 four different directions ! The two blun- 

 derers went off in a hurry, both talkin' at 

 once and one suckin' her paw. Thankful 

 to say ain't ever seen 'em since. But 

 Dame Chat's a nervous wreck from the 

 fright they gave her ; and I'm worked to 

 skin and bone takin' care of the little 

 Chats. I just wish all the town's fenced 

 in so 's blunderers couldn't get loose to 

 meddle round in their bunglin', elephant, 

 rhinoceros way ! 



Elizabeth Nunemacher. 



He comes — he comes — the Frost Spirit comes ! You may trace his 



footsteps now 

 On the naked woods and the blasted fields, and the brown hill's withered 



brow. 



He has smitten the leaves of the gray old trees where their pleasant green 



came forth, 

 And the winds, which follow wherever he goes, have shaken them down 



to earth. 



— John Greenleaf Whittier. 



