THE RAVEN. in 



which she had heard an account that had greatly 

 excited her curiosity. 



No doubt she was greeted by the "grim, ungainly, 

 ghastly fowl" in the usual manner for she presently 

 returned and remarked to a member of the family: 

 "I am surprised the doctor should keep such a horrid, 

 vulgar old scarecrow as thatl" The shaft had evidently 

 struck home. 



"Grippa" had another trick: she used to cough like 

 an unfortunate afflicted with consumption, or at least 

 a severe attack of bronchitis, and the effect was curious, 

 not to say amusing enough, when it was first heard, 

 but the continual repetition of the lugubrious sounds 

 became terribly monotonous and wearisome after a time, 

 especially when the bird began, as she always did 

 during the summer, about 2 o'clock in the morning, 

 and kept up the performance, at frequent intervals, 

 through the day, and far into the night. 



I was not surprised when my next door neighbours 

 complained. As long as they thought it was a human 

 being, they put up with the annoyance without a 

 murmur, but when they found out that it proceeded 

 from a Raven that had not even the excuse of being 

 ill, they did complain, and that was one of the reasons 

 that led me to part with "Grippa", though not, I must 

 confess, with any poignant feelings of regret. 



She had many accomplishments, such as whistling 

 for the dog, calling him by his name "Jumbo", and 



