THE OLD SUGAR MILL. Ill 



love an original character? For at least 

 half an hour the old mill was forgotten, 

 while I chased the grackle about, as he flew 

 hither and thither, sometimes with a logger- 

 head shrike in furious pursuit. Once I had 

 gone a few rods into the palmetto scrub, 

 partly to be nearer the bird, but still more 

 to enjoy the shadow of a pine, and was 

 standing under the tree, motionless, when a 

 man came along the road in a gig. " Sur- 

 veying ? " he asked, reining in his horse. 

 "No, sir; I am looking at a bird in the 

 tree yonder." I wished him to go on, and 

 thought it best to gratify his curiosity at 

 once. He was silent a moment ; then he 

 said, " Looking at the old sugar house from 

 there?" That was too preposterous, and 

 I answered with more voice, and perhaps 

 with a touch of impatience, " No, no ; I 

 am trying to see a bird in that pine-tree." 

 He was silent again. Then he gathered up 

 the reins. " I 'm so deaf I can't hear you," 

 he said, and drove on. "Good-by," I re- 

 marked, in a needless undertone ; " you 're 

 a good man, I 've no doubt, but deaf people 

 should n't be inquisitive at long range." 

 The advice was sound enough, in itself 



